Electric Phoenix
by Shychick
Summary: After the events of 'Clash Reunion', Megavolt starts to see himself in a whole new light. Now he just wants nothing more than to lead a happy, normal life. But he knows that's far easier said than done. *CH. 15 UP*
1. Who Am I?

"I may have lost," a semi-disgruntled Megavolt gloated, reaching for the one victory he had managed to scrape during his latest encounter with his enemy that very evening- by glorious fortune and coincidence, the greatest weapon he could ever possibly use against him, "but at least I know Darkwing Duck's secret identity! He's... Elmo Sputterspark!" He paused, searching his short-circuited mind; he knew it was not an utterly random name that had just surfaced, but at the moment he was quite unable to place its true owner. "No, that's not right; he's Hamm String... no, that was the big guy... oh, darn it!"

The name was on the tip of his brain. He just had to remember! He was so close to personal triumph over Dipwing, and yet so far! With his jealously-guarded secret exposed all over St. Canard, the duck would be completely vulnerable, nothing at all! But all he presently recalled learning about him earlier at their high-school reunion, when he had accidentally pulled his mask off during their fight, was that they had indeed been in the same year together- St. Canard High, 12th Grade, Class of '77. If only he could recall his blasted name! The instant his mask had came off, it had been a shock to all present, himself included. He had vaguely recognized his former classmate then, even after all those years- though not quite able to remember his name, not unlike now- but it was his old tormentors that had immediately identified him.

"Ohhh, it's not fair! Curse my stupid memory-block! Why me, why now, why, why, why?" he wailed, ramming his fists against the sides of his plug-shaped helmet, looking twice as pathetic as he sat covered in rubber cement.

Darkwing smirked, rolling his eyes. Megavolt didn't notice; he was too busy pouting and cursing, like a typical sore loser. "So, can we give you folks a lift somewhere?" he asked to Hamm and his former-girlfriend-now-wife, Preena, gesturing down towards where the ThunderQuack was parked. The Masked Mallard was relieved that he had managed to hypnotize them into forgetting his true identity, and was even more grateful- ego aside- that, right beforehand, they had both willingly and genuinely apologized for their long-time treatment of him. And it wasn't that he had altogether disbelieved them when they promised that his true identity would be safe with them, but it had mainly been an act of precaution. Besides, their newly-established respect and admiration for Drake Mallard might compel them to excitedly spread the word, especially String, who had always been a big-mouth.

"Well, since Megadolt- or whatever that freak calls himself- kinda messed up our high-school reunion," Hamm was saying, with a disappointed shrug ("yeah, not unlike our Senior Prom," Preena snidely piped up, with an icy glare at the electric rodent in question, who was muttering angrily to himself and trying to loosen himself from the sticky brown mess), "I guess we may as well head back to our hotel. We're staying at the Swan."

"Pretty swanky!" Launchpad whistled appreciatively.

"What about him, Darkwing? You handing him over to the police?" Hamm asked, looking at Megavolt.

"You can count on it!" Darkwing grabbed him by an arm, hauling him to his feet. "Come on, Sparky. You've reached the end of your rope." So saying, he grabbed the very ropes that Megavolt had used on his friends, and quickly tied him up.

"Sparky... Spark... Sputterspark..." Megavolt mumbled as though in a daze, his eyes distant and unfocused behind his goggles as he stared directly ahead of him.

Darkwing, Launchpad, and Gosalyn all exchanged confused glances, before shrugging. They knew that Megavolt was far from what one would call a well person.

A few moments later, the company had made it to the ThunderQuack, and were just about to climb aboard, when Megavolt suddenly yelled, "HOLD IT!"

Everybody started, glancing at him. "Now what?" Darkwing snapped.

"I demand satisfaction here! If I can't get my long-awaited revenge on these two, or even have the power of your precious secret identity to keep you at bay, then I should at least get an apology!"

Hamm and Preena gaped at him. "An APOLOGY? You want us to apologize to YOU? You're the one that tried to fry us, pal!"

Megavolt groaned loudly in exasperation. "Haven't you been listening to me rant?" he cried. "Are you fools so ignorant?"

"Look, all we know is that you're the same whack-job that crashed our Prom fifteen years ago today," Preena snapped.

"Just who are you anyway, and what's your problem?" Hamm added.

"MY PROBLEM? MY PROBLEM? You ask what my problem is?" Megavolt screeched, the prongs on his helmet sparking dangerously. "HA! That's a good one, String! In a word- YOU! YOU, WHO MADE ME WHAT I AM TODAY- WHAT I'VE BEEN EVER SINCE THAT FATEFUL DAY! Take a good look at this freak of nature, the monster you created! You KNOW who I am, pal... even if I can't quite remember at the moment."

He shook his head wildly. "I was on the verge of graduating with honors, of taking my well-deserved place in the world of science. I had dreams to fulfill, the rest of my life ahead of me. But all that got terminated like a man suddenly down struck by lightning- BOOM- before he least expects it." He narrowed his eyes into hateful slits. "The afternoon the week before the Prom, in the science lab, remember? I was hard at work on my experiment on static electricity, minding my own business, and I had just made an incredible breakthrough that would have surely earned the brilliant seventeen-year-old a Nobel Prize... when YOU showed up, to ruin my life before it officially began. You turned my own experiment against me!" he hissed venomously, blue electricity radiating off all sides of him in his fury. "I was strapped to that damn treadmill for what seemed like forever, before the build-up of the static charge finally exploded me loose. A little magic touch of the door-knob later, and I soon found I had the power to absorb, control, and wield electricity at will! It runs in my very veins, as much my life-source as my own blood! From that moment on, all I knew was that I had to make you pay for doing this to me, make EVERYBODY who had ever tormented and humiliated me pay dearly! That was all that mattered to me."

He panted, his breath coming forth in slow, unsteady gales, glaring at the two perpetrators as though he mentally willed them into hell.

There was dead silence all around. Not even Darkwing had known the precise origins of his oldest arch-nemesis.

"Elmo Sputterspark?" Preena breathed.

"Ol' Sparky?" Hamm exclaimed in disbelief.

"DON'T- CALL- ME- SPARKY!" Megavolt screamed. He was but one mass of glowing blue energy now, like nothing any of them had ever seen, expanding and quivering.

"GET BACK!" Darkwing yelped to the others, and not one of them lost time in running for cover. If Megavolt lost all control of his electricity...

But instead of an explosion, there was only a loud *crackle-sizzle-pop*, as though a circuit had shorted out. Then there was the distinct sound of steam intensely rising, followed by the disgusting smell of burnt rubber. It seemed as though Megavolt's system had chosen that moment to shut down, before worst came to worst. So much energy had built up in him, in so little time, that he had literally burnt out.

Slowly, they crept back to the scene. Megavolt lay there in a heap, half-conscious, a smouldering wreck. His helmet lay a couple feet apart from him, exposing a short tuft of red hair, and his yellow rubber jumpsuit was torn in several places. Darkwing always figured that his outfit was specifically designed to resist the currents he gave off so as not to damage either it or himself, so it must have been one unhealthy volt he gave off.

Megavolt's glassy eyes turned up, coming into contact with the five individuals. "G-go away," he rasped, his voice a shaky whisper. He gave a cough. "Just leave me alone."

There was another long bout of silence, stretching further than the last. Finally, it was Gosalyn who broke the silence. "Ok, look, you!" she said in her spunky, assertive tone, looking him directly in the face, "Maybe they were responsible for the freak accident that changed you, even if indirectly... and sure, it stinks that it happened at all... and you're right, they should apologize to you, at least for always picking on you; I mean, why should anybody be treated like that? My best friend happens to be the biggest nerd in our school, so I can sorta imagine what you must have went through." She put her hands on her hips. "But as for the kind of person you turned out to be, that was totally your call! I mean, who says you still couldn't have led a successful life? You could have used your powers to make the world a better place, or you could have just ignored them altogether if you wanted. So, technically, Elmo Sputterspark, you ruined your own life and you made yourself an outcast... all because you chose to become a villain!"

Megavolt said nothing. But there was something very deep, very painful in the rodent's face that even one as young as her could not overlook. She couldn't believe it, but she suddenly found herself feeling very sad for him.

"Come on, everyone. Let's go," Darkwing said quietly. Was that sympathy Megavolt heard behind his enemy's voice? No way, it couldn't be...

But to his great surprise, he found himself being untied by him. "Aren't you going to take me/him to prison?" came the stunned chorus from Megavolt and Hamm.

"Well, I guess I should," Darkwing shrugged, looking squarely at Megavolt, with a shrug, "but I just don't have the heart." He gave a small chuckle. "Maybe I'm not the only one who doesn't believe in kicking a man when he's down."

* * *

Back at the lighthouse on Beaker's Point that was Megavolt's home, on the edge of the city, Megavolt's first act had been to re-charge his battery.

His second act had been to fry and destroy everything he owned, including every one of his beloved luminaries, in a fit of rage he had not experienced in fifteen years.

Finally, he noticed the mirror all that remained. He stared at himself for a full moment, taking everything in- the jumpsuit, goggles, battery, gloves, helmet.

He no longer recognized the man before him.

Snarling, he sent a great bolt of electricity at the glass, shattering it into hundreds of pieces, before collapsing weakly to his knees and pounding his fists into the floor.

A song suddenly popped into his head out of nowhere, a Michael Quackson classic:

_'...I'm starting with the man in the mirror,_

_I'm asking if he'll change his ways_

_And no message could have been any clearer_

_If ya wanna make the world a better place,_

_Gotta look at yourself_

_And make a change...'_

He heard the lyrics with such ringing clarity that it could have been playing on the radio. The entire song played over in his mind for an indefinite period before he finally fell asleep right there on the floor, amidst the many jagged shards.


	2. Where Do I Go From Here?

The electric rodent sluggishly raised his head, which felt as heavy as concrete, moaning quietly as he did so. The first thing to greet his sense of awareness was the sickening pain that rammed through his skull, barely followed by the blinding rays of dawn streaming in through the window of his lighthouse.

He found himself lying on the hard floor. Hundreds of glass shards, in various sizes, littered the near space around him- to say nothing of all his treasured lightbulbs, as well as every appliance he had ever saved from slavery, and all his inventions, smashed to hell. Along with his strange migraine, Megavolt found himself completely exhausted, drained of every ounce of energy he had possessed.

Wearily sitting up with a moan, he closed his eyes and wrapped his hands around his head, struggling to piece together the entire picture of what these clues offered. He cast his shorted-out memory back to the day before, but all that he received were scattered, vague images, like a television set on the blink. With great difficulty, he tried to sift through the hazy memories; it was bad enough that his memory was always particularly bad first thing in the morning, and the pain and fatigue proved contributing factors to this inconvenience.

"What the hell happened to me? _Power_... I need electricity... so bad..." he murmured, attempting to rise to his feet, but collapsing back down on his kneecaps. "So tired... can barely move. My aching head..." He let loose a strangled sob from his constricted throat, as he properly surveyed the damage to his home. "No... no... my babies... my precious luminaries, mercilessly destroyed! I liberated them from a life of harsh servitude; they were counting on me to look after them! And I failed them!" He crawled along the floor until he reached their remains, and scooped a handful into his hands. He broke down weeping then, cradling the fragments to him. "Oh, my poor children of the light! I'm so sorry! I _t-t-tried_..."

His grieving was suddenly interrupted by a familiar high-pitched voice calling his name. At first, he was unable to acknowledge its precise point-of-origin, but finally decided that it was coming from outside. He staggered across the room, to the window, and glanced down... only to be greeted a second later, face-to-face, with his favorite partner-in-crime Quackerjack. "Hiya, Megsy, old buddy!" he cried in his usual mischievous, happy-go-lucky way, before him and his pogo-stick descended to earth once more.

From the second their eyes connected, a startled Megavolt had already tumbled backwards with a yelp, sprawling onto the floor. It was fortunate he was wearing his gloves, he would have realized under any normal circumstances, or his hands would have been cut up something fierce. In any case, this day was certainly not taking a turn for the expected.

With a final bounce, Quackerjack leaped right into the lighthouse, abandoned his trademark means of communication, and did two somersaults before landing in a back-flip right before Megavolt. "_It's playyyyytiiime_!" he cried.

"How's tricks, Mick?" Mr. Banana Brain piped up from the jester's shoulder.

"Ohhhh... do I LOOK like I'm in the mood for your stupid hyjinks this morning?" Megavolt yelled furiously, leaping to his feet and glaring at him. "You drive me mad, do you hear? Mad, I tell you! MAD!" He paused, exhaling. "What the heck are you doing here anyway, Quackerjack?"

"Looks like somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed, Ed," Quackerjack made the doll say.

Quackerjack nodded in smug agreement. "Oh, I concur, Mr. Banana Brain! I had heard the rumors that our dear playmate, Megavolt, was no morning person, but I just had to see it to believe it!" He put a hand to his cheek in mock-astonishment.

Before Megavolt could retort that curiosity killed the cat, Quackerjack sprang into the air and landed before him, saying, "Well, I'm glad you're up and about anyway, though I suppose my heart should just give out from shock right here." He goofily tugged at the ends of his harlequin hat, with a crazy grin.

"Don't push it, or it just might," Megavolt snarled, raising a threatening finger, before remembering that he was out of energy. "Er... heh-heh."

Pouting, he snapped, "_Well_?"

"Yeah, see, as much as I believe that all work and no play make Quacky a dull boy," Quackerjack continued with a 'what're ya gonna do?' smile of resignation, and a sigh, "this, unfortunately, is strictly a business call. We've been summoned by the boss." He lazily occupied himself with a game of paddle-ball, while leaning with one hand against the wall.

"Negaduck?"

"No, Al Capone. Of course Negaduck, you idiot!"

It was then that Quackerjack noticed the state of his friend's hideout. "Why, Megs! I never knew you to cut loose like this! Just how much of the 'ol juice did you take in last night? And more to the point, why didn't you invite me to the party?" His tone changed from amused to hurt shock.

_Party_. That was it, the key word that triggered his memories from yesterday. His mind instantly flashed back to the high-school reunion, and played back the entire series of events that had taken place.

"Uh, Megs? You home?" came Quackerjack's voice, seemingly distant.

"Drake Mallard!" Megavolt suddenly exclaimed in triumph, all-at-once snapping out of his trance.

Quackerjack could only stare. "Uh, no, you're Megavolt. At least, the last time I checked."

At these words, Megavolt's face went blank. Confusion, anger, and pain, all rolled into one, washed across his features.

"Wow, you must have overdosed if you're _this_ out of it, Sparky! Too bad you didn't spare anything, because now you've got to waste time re-charging, and we're behind schedule as it is!" Quackerjack said in mild exasperation. "We're both gonna be on the receiving end of the boss's chainsaw if we're late; and I don't know about you, but I happen to value my life! Why do you think I'm out there each day, living it to its fullest?" he cried dramatically, shaking him.

That brought Megavolt back to his senses, somewhat. "Yeah, yeah. Ok, ok," he muttered, frowning.

* * *

"All right, you knobs, listen up and listen good!" Negaduck stood before the rest of the Fearsome Five, like a general commanding his troops. They were stationed out at an old, abandoned warehouse downtown. "I'll get right to the point! I'm sick of that do-gooder twin of mine interfering in my life all the time, and I want him out of it once-and-for-all!"

"Tell us something we don't know, Joe," came the high-pitched 'voice' of Mr. Banana Brain.

Negaduck was in the jester's face at once. "DID I GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO TALK?" he roared.

"I didn't say anything, boss, honest! He's the one with the big mouth!" Quackerjack gulped, pointing to the doll.

Negaduck snorted, and stormed away. "When are you going to learn when to shut up?" Quackerjack hissed under his breath to Mr. Banana Brain.

"Like I was saying," Negaduck continued in a deadly voice that clearly indicated no further interruptions would be tolerated, "Darkwing Duck has long since worn out his welcome as Caped Clown in MY city. But for some reason, that arrogant buffoon has yet to be put out of commission. Would any of you care to enlighten me on why that might be?"

The Liquidator spoke up. "Four out of five retailers estimate that Darkwing is one tough customer."

"WHAT? Are you implying that Darkwing is any match for ME?" Negaduck yelled, his glaring face an inch away from the aqua canine's.

Liquidator backed down. "Uh... by no means, boss! The Liquidator knows that would be false advertising."

Bushroot raised a trembling hand. "Bushroot!" Negaduck acknowledged.

"Maybe he's just lucky," the mutant plant-duck suggested.

He wilted somewhat under Negaduck's stern, skeptical gaze. "Um... maybe really, really lucky?"

"It's because he doesn't play fair!" Quackerjack chimed in.

"Sorry, still cold." Negaduck turned his attention to the only member of the Five who had not spoken. "But I haven't heard from the rest of the peanut gallery yet," he sneered condescendingly. "Well, Sparky? What do you think?"

Megavolt had barely been paying attention the entire time, having been so absorbed in his own thoughts, and his expression and body-language clearly demonstrated that. "Wha? Oh..." He shrugged his shoulders, mumbling a very incoherent "Idunno."

"Negaduck growled fiercely under his breath. "MORONS! I'm surrounded by MORONS!" He furiously paced back and forth before the line. "Which brings me to my point! The whole reason for my record of failures against that loser is because of all YOUR failures!"

The Fearsome Four took that as their cue to look appropriately frightened, and a little ashamed.

"But all that's gonna change! Since you've proven that you don't have any brains to go along with your so-called brawn, then you're going to work on strengthening your powers to utilize them to their full advantage! Starting today, you four are getting down to some hard-core training! You're going to be faster, stronger, tougher, a direct reflection of this pathetic team's name for once! I'm going to whip you knobs into shape, if it kills you!" He smirked, his eyes narrowing from behind his black mask. "And I do mean that literally."

Now the gang looked very frightened, indeed.

It was only an hour into the group's first training session, and they were already starting to get winded. Negaduck had ordered them to slip into pairs, and face off against each-other. In those sixty minutes alone, he had them expend more energy than they usually did fighting Darkwing Duck. This was not for lack of effort, as all of them despised the Mighty Masked Mallard, but Negaduck was proving to be an absolutely ruthless 'coach'. He had ordered them to go all-out, without holding back a whit. Unfortunately, none of them were in the greatest of physical shape, having always arrogantly labored under the assumption that their abilities made up for that, and they were starting to realize for the first time that both actually went hand-in-hand.

"Come on, you pansies! I wanna smell some sweat over here! I wanna see the blood fly! If regular sparring sessions like this won't whip your asses into shape, nothing will!"

They would switch partners every fifteen minutes. Currently, Bushroot was fighting the Liquidator, while Quackerjack was going up against Megavolt.

Unfortunately for Megavolt, neither his heart nor mind was into this at all.

"Come on, Sparky, what's the matter? You haven't gotten in a single hit yet!" Quackerjack yelled, easily dodging the pitiful bolts. "I'm practically standing still over here, you pussy!" This wasn't exactly true; Quackerjack was extremely agile on his feet, with or without the springs in his shoes or the pogo-stick, but he hoped to goad him into putting up a proper fight, and calling him by his hated nickname was always a sure way to infuriate him. At least, usually...

Quackerjack did a somersault over his head, and sent out several sets of his giant toy teeth at him. They caught him painfully around his every limb, as well as his head. He rolled around on the floor, yelping in pain.

"Grrr, what is WITH you, Megs? You're not playing fair at all, making me do all the work!" Quackerjack cried. After calling the teeth off, he took out a bugle and sounded off. "Troops, move in! Make him show resistance!"

An assembly of his finest toy soldiers charged the electric rodent, taking lethal pot-shots at him. Again, Megavolt made no move whatsoever, but just stood there with baited breath. Megavolt's socket-shaped chest armor protected him from some of the shots, but several small chunks of his uniform- mainly along his arms and legs- got gouged, and he shrieked in pain. He winced, watching the blood trickle down him.

"THAT'S IT, YA BIG SPOILSPORT!" Quackerjack pounced. He tackled his team-mate to the ground, and began to tickle him like crazy. Megavolt screamed in laughter, but refused to put up a fight. "Say 'Uncle'!"

"Piss off!" Megavolt roared angrily, through tears of laughter.

"ENOUGH!" Negaduck stormed over to the two. Quackerjack leaped to his feet and began trembling in his huge clown shoes, but it was Megavolt's neck his fist wrapped tightly around. "Explain yourself, Megavolt," he hissed venomously, glaring daggers into his eyes.

Bushroot and the Liquidator's activities had immediately stopped, and both of them were now glancing nervously in their direction. Quackerjack covered his eyes, peeking through his fingers.

"_What_- _the hell_- _was that_?" Negaduck seethed, with furious snorts in between, practically sprouting fangs. His eyes looked almost demonic-possessed. His grip around Megavolt's scrawny neck tightened, causing his face to turn blue. "All morning, you've practically been nothing but a freaking BENCH-WARMER! To say you weren't even trying is an UNDERSTATEMENT! You WORTHLESS, USELESS, GOOD-FOR-NOTHING PEICE OF DIRT!" Negaduck landed blow after blow to Megavolt's face with each insult, with all his might. "You're lucky I don't kill you right now for having wasted my time!" He slammed him face-down to the floor and kicked him harshly in his rib-cage, causing a sharp wheeze to escape his throat. "Now," he whispered, ignoring his soft moan of agony, "I'm going to give you one last chance to prove yourself a loyal member of the Fearsome Five. But if I see anymore of that DISGRACEFUL display out there, then I'm going to change the name of this group to the Fearsome Four! Get it, Douche-Bulb?"

What happened next, not one of them could have predicted. There was an enormous flash, and Negaduck suddenly went hurtling across the room, only to slam directly into a wall of concrete. The duck crumpled to the floor, temporarily dazed, leaving behind him a large indent roughly shaped like him.

Quackerjack, Bushroot, and the Liquidator all stared at the scene of destruction, before returning their stunned eyes back to Megavolt. Not a single jaw remained closed.

"I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE!" Megavolt suddenly screamed, falling to his knees and holding his aching head. "I just can't take anymore, ok? I no longer want this life! I don't want to fight anymore, I don't want to be a super-villain! My name is Elmo Sputterspark- not Megavolt! You don't know how I long to be the guy I once was! Can't you guys understand that?"

You could have heard a pin drop in the heavy silence that followed.

"Megavolt? What-" Bushroot began.

"Shut up! Everybody just stay the hell away from me!" Megavolt turned, and bolted.

"Megavolt, wait!" the others called after him in alarm, but he had already vanished outside.

"Let him go!" Negaduck snarled, returning. "But know this- if that spineless traitor ever shows his face again, he's dead."

He barked out, "Well, what are you knobs just standing around for? Get back to work


	3. A Shocking Turn of Events

Dusk had fallen over St. Canard. At the local cinema, downtown, dozens of terrified and nauseous patrons exited the building, the vast majority of them having just come from the slasher-flick that had been playing.

Among the crowd was Gosalyn Mallard. Her father had believed her to be attending the innocent animated movie, and had threatened to ground her for a month if he found out she had gone anywhere near a certain R-rated piece. But she figured, as always, what he didn't know couldn't hurt him.

She had bought the ticket for the kiddie flick, but snuck into the other one instead. It had been her first time sneaking into a movie, and she had actually been a bit nervous, but it went off without a hitch. She had made sure to blend into the huge crowd packing their way into the theater, so as not to stick out, and everybody else had been so into the horror on the screen that they entirely failed to notice the unsupervised minor.

What made her even prouder than the fact that she had gotten away with it, was that she seemed to be the only person who hadn't dashed to the restroom to empty the contents of their stomach. While everybody had been hiding their faces or shrieking, Gosalyn had been standing on her seat, cheering on the spunky babysitter and calling the victims on their utter lack of common sense. "And Dad thought I couldn't handle 'Strange Caller'!" she laughed to herself, smirking at the pale-to-green complexions on everybody else's faces. "I'd like to see him sit through just the first ten minutes of it!"

Her father was on patrol tonight, with Launchpad, and had promised to pick her up when her movie let out (fortunately both movies were roughly the same length, and had began at the same time). Unfortunately, he was late.

Ten minutes passed, which soon turned into fifteen, and there was still no sign of him.

"Geeze, Dad, where the heck are you?" she muttered in irritation, pacing up and down the streets, which were completely deserted by now, save for an occasional passing vehicle. "And I get grilled when I'm late for dinner."

Gosalyn began to get a little nervous; he wasn't always careful when he drove the RatCatcher. She hoped he was just busy thwarting a crime somewhere.

A rough, meaty hand suddenly came down on her shoulder from behind; gasping in shock, she immediately whipped around. (Ok, so maybe the movie affected her slightly more than she thought.) She glanced up to see a burly bulldog and pig standing before her, clad in black leather, chains, with bandannas around their heads. Each of them had an earring in one ear, and the pig had an additional one through his snout. Clearly, they were part of some motorcycle gang.

"Hey, whatsa matter matter, little lady? Ya lost?" the pig said. There was not a drop of concern to his tone, nor in either of their faces.

"Ya know, a pretty young thing like you really shouldn't be alone on the street at this hour," the other guy said, doing little to suppress his smirk. "It ain't safe. Lotsa bad people out-an'-about."

Gosalyn knew that she was probably in trouble. Big trouble. "Oh, uh, I'm fine, really," she said, trying to keep the fear out of her tone, but failing miserably. She tried to turn and make a dash in the opposite direction, but her leg muscles seemed to have frozen on the spot.

"How's about you come with us?" the pig was saying, his evil intentions gleaming in his bloodshot eyes. "We'll give ya a ride home."

"N-n-no thanks, guys. I'm actually waiting for somebody," Gosalyn stammered. Her heart was thudding in her chest with such potent force that she was sure they heard it. She hastily looked around, scared to take her eyes off them for a second; not a soul was in sight.

"Aw, you're just being shy. It's ok, baby, we're your friends."

"She seems tense, Brick. Whaddaya think we should do?"

"I think you should leave me alone, or you'll be sorry!" Gosalyn snapped, mustering up far more courage than she possessed at the moment.

The bulldog named Brick ignored her threat, moving a step closer to her. "I think we should loosen her up real good, Hammer."

Miraculously, her body chose that moment to obey her, and she delivered a swift kick to Brick's groin before making a run for it.

"YOU LITTLE BITCH!" the dog howled.

Hammer gave chase, then threw out a bike chain that he had in his pocket, and lassoed it around the duckling's neck. He yanked her backwards, causing a cry of pain to escape from her throat.

Where was her dad?

"I like feisty little girls like you," Hammer said, grinning as he held a struggling Gosalyn in a fierce grip. "I think you and I are gonna get on real good."

There was an ear-piercing screech of tire on pavement, then. Both of them looked up to see the blinding sensation of headlights zooming right in their direction, at a fantastic speed.

"What the-"

Without even coming to a stop, the driver's door flung open at the last minute, and somebody reached out and pulled Gosalyn inside. The car did an illegal U-turn, and drove off, leaving the men to choke in a cloud of exhaust.

Now safe in the passenger's seat, Gosalyn quickly had the chain removed from her neck by the person next to her. She coughed, rubbing at her tender neck.

"Are you all right, kid?" she heard the driver demand in a tone of distinct urgency. She knew she had heard that voice before, but the aftermath of the terrifying events left her quite unable to think straight.

"I- I guess so," she responded, taking a deep, though shaky breath, unable to stop the tears from flowing. She had never felt more shook-up in her young life. "Um, thanks for your help..." It was then that she glanced up at her benefactor for the first time.

"Megavolt!"

Megavolt nodded. "You're that girl who's always tagging along with Darkwing Duck, right?" he asked, h back thereis voice tense and harsh. "I thought I recognized you when I was parked in the alley, a few feet away from you."

Gosalyn felt terrified all over again. Megavolt not only sounded particularly dangerous right now, but he looked it too. His face was covered in pure rage, he was trembling slightly, and the prongs on his helmet sparked erratically. What was he going to do with her? Had she escaped from one mess, just to land in another one?

But then, why would he save her? Why would he seem so concerned about her welfare?

"Your neck is bruised," Megavolt observed, looking at her carefully. His words came out in a hoarse snarl.

"Um... Megavolt? I was just wondering," Gosalyn spoke up tentatively, "this is probably a really dumb question, but are you kidnapping me or rescuing me?"

Megavolt's face softened somewhat, as did his tone. "I suppose that's a fair question," he admitted. He stared directly ahead, not taking his eyes off the road, as he answered. His helmet still gave off electricity, though not as intensely now. "Truthfully, rescuing you."

"Ok, I don't mean to sound ungrateful or anything, but... well, why?" Gosalyn asked skeptically.

Megavolt nodded again. "Another good question. And I'll tell you flat-out, kid- when I saw you in trouble like that, something inside me just... snapped. I don't think you have any idea of just what they were up to, but I had more than a far notion. I've seen those guys before, at the Old Haunt; that's a bar on the bad side of town with a really seedy reputation. I visit there frequently, so I am quite familiar with them, even though I don't know them personally. But the things I've overheard from them, well... it's enough to make me sick inside. There are just some things that even a, well, a criminally-insane guy like myself would never condone or consider."

He exhaled deeply, before continuing. "I couldn't just let them... hurt you like that. I did what I knew in my heart was right, what any regular witness would- or, at least, should- do. And you have no freaking clue how hard it was for me to keep from frying them... slowly and painfully. Even now, it's incredibly tempting to turn around and go after them."

Gosalyn decided not to ask why he didn't, though it puzzled her greatly. "My dad was supposed to pick me up at the movie theater," she told him, a tad awkwardly. "He's probably waiting there, by now."

"I'm sorry, but he's going to have to wait a little longer. I can't turn back now. There's a chance they're still around there, and if I see those sick fuckers again, I *won't* be able to hold back from killing them." He paused, looking a tad sheepish. "Pardon my language."

Gosalyn shrugged. "No worse than I've heard from my dad, when he's having an off day. So, um, where are we going then?"

Megavolt sighed. "I guess, technically, I am kidnapping you after all. There's no point in driving around aimlessly, so I'm taking you back to my place. Maybe for a half-hour, or more, at least until I am in better control of myself." He looked at her earnestly. "This isn't a trick, or anything," he promised. "As Edison as my witness, I won't harm you."

Gosalyn found herself nodding; her mind was spinning from the unexpected turn of events that had occurred in the past little while, up to now.

But she felt strangely compelled to trust him, this man who had saved her life. This man who didn't seem like the Megavolt she knew, at all.

"Are you sure you're ok?" Megavolt asked her. "Maybe I should just take you straight to a doctor."

Gosalyn smiled a little. "I'm ok, really; just still a bit shook-up." She reluctantly admitted, "Well, and my neck is kind of sore. The bruise doesn't look too bad, does it?"

"Well," Megavolt said thoughtfully, scrutinizing the mark in question, "it doesn't appear too deep right now. Still, there is a chance that it'll get worse, so I'll be sure to give you some ice when we get to my lighthouse."

They drove in silence for a few minutes after that. Gosalyn glanced up at Megavolt, watching him intently. He seemed very deep in thought; the expression on his face was difficult to decipher. He didn't seem to be as angry, though she noticed that he was breathing heavily through his nose.

"By the way," Megavolt suddenly said, turning to her, "I never did remember your name." He sounded regretful, slightly disgusted with himself. Gosalyn vaguely wondered if perhaps it had to do with more than just his poor memory.

"Gosalyn," she answered, deciding against giving away her last name. Just in case.

Megavolt smiled at her. "I'll remember it from now on. And please, call me Elmo."


	4. An Unexpected Friend

"I hate when I do that," Megavolt groaned, stopping dead in his tracks, as the alarm loudly blared.

Him and Gosalyn were making their way up the winding flight of stairs that led to the lighthouse, and Megavolt had once again forgotten about the ankle-level beam positioned half-way up. This was right after cautioning Gosalyn to watch her step, too.

Gosalyn couldn't help but giggle. "Yeah, that must get annoying after awhile."

"Well, I'm kind of used to it by now," Megavolt admitted, with a sheepish grin.

They reached the large room, and Megavolt hurried to his computer terminal and disabled the alarm. "What's even more annoying," he said, chuckling, "is when I forget the access-code that shuts it off. Good thing I finally found the foresight to write it down; you might say it really saves on my electricity."

He turned around and, to his chagrin, immediately remembered the complete mess. "Oh, uh... sorry about this. I, um, forgot to pick the place up this morning."

"Hey, you should see my room. Dad always says it would take a bulldozer to get in," Gosalyn laughed. She could tell, though, that there was more to the state of the room than he was letting on; almost everything, especially, the electronics and filaments, had obviously been deliberately destroyed and melted down. She was surprised the computer station remained intact. But she bit her tongue from asking what happened; she could tell he was embarrassed enough, as it was.

"I guess you don't get much company," Gosalyn said a touch awkwardly.

"Well, that's the way I always liked it," Megavolt mumbled, shrugging. "A villain, as a general rule, particularly values their privacy."

He slapped a hand to his helmet, as though suddenly remembering something important. "And that would, of course, explain my total lack of hospitality here. Please, make yourself at home while I get you that ice for your neck. And can I get you anything to drink?"

Gosalyn carefully seated herself upon the couch, which was in somewhat-adequate condition at best. "I'm fine, thanks, Meg- I mean, Elmo," she politely replied. This was getting weirder and weirder, by the minute! But she didn't feel the least bit threatened, or altogether uncomfortable; mainly confused as heck.

The lighthouse was, for the most part, all one room; the appliances and furniture he owned had always been neatly located in different areas, though he never really kept more than the most basic necessities. The only separate room was a tiny bathroom, which Megavolt had installed shortly after he took over the place. He walked over to what was left of his icebox and, with slight difficulty, removed a pack of ice.

He returned to Gosalyn, and handed her the ice-pack. She thanked him, pressing it gingerly against her neck.

"Um, Elmo? Can I ask you something?"

Megavolt seated himself beside her. "Sure, Gosalyn."

"What exactly did stop you from using your electricity against those creeps?"

Elmo did not hesitate in answering. "Because I no longer wish to hurt anybody; not even those who may actually deserve it... and oh, they did." He closed his eyes and bent his head down, releasing a deep puff of breath. "I'll be totally frank with you- I don't want to be a villain anymore."

"Seriously?" Gosalyn exclaimed, staring at him. "Um, ok, wow... what brought this on, all of a sudden? Just yesterday, you were the same Megavolt I've always known."

Megavolt nodded, his eyes still shut. "Yes. But, if you can believe it, your words last night really had an affect on me. They made me see myself in a way I've never imagined. You made me realize, for the first time ever, that these powers have nothing to do with how I could've lived my life. But I was originally so blind with rage, and a desire for revenge, that I didn't care. All I could think about was destroying everybody who had ever made my life hell in high-school, especially those who caused me to obtain my powers in the first place. I mean, I knew it was just a freak accident, but I didn't stop to consider that, the consequences of my actions, or any such logic and reason. That afternoon in the science-lab, from the instant I touched that door-knob and- quite literally- got the shock of my life," he reminisced in a horribly strained voice, "Elmo Sputterspark, the ambitious young genius who always dreamed of nothing more than utilizing his vast knowledge and intricate theories on the electro-magnetic spectrum to invent fresh, new methods for the world to harness and use electricity- oh, the possibilities were endless; so many of my discoveries wasted, because of my sheer blindness- well, anyway, he died right then-and-there. It was the strangest, most disorienting experience, like a total stranger took complete possession of my mind. I didn't know who I was anymore, I didn't know or understand anything! All the pent-up pain and rage from a lifetime of rejection, humiliation, and bullying came undone, and I ultimately lost all control of my senses. I never even tried to fight it, fight for control of my will." Megavolt's voice broke severely, as he concluded.

"Is that when you... well, when you lost your memory?" Gosalyn asked quietly.

Megavolt nodded. "More-or-less, except for all the suffering I've ever endured. And that was what fuelled the fire within me. I concentrated hard on those memories, which had always included a deep desire for the strength- both physically and within-to take a stand, to stand up for myself. And as time went on," he added, "the more electricity I absorbed over the years, my memory-loss became worse, and I became more and more mentally-unstable. My brain is like a horribly fragmented hard-drive, beyond repair. It's gotten so bad, I have difficulty remembering and concentrating on even the simplest things! And- AND I'M SICK OF LIVING LIKE THIS!" he suddenly screamed, all-at-once leaping to his feet, causing Gosalyn to flinch.

He snarled, his voice full of self-loathing, "I initially turned to a life of crime, not for monetary gain, but for power. I wanted people to fear me, for once. I wanted to be the one in total control. Nobody would ever mess with me again, not unless they wanted to feel the wrath of the reborn, new-and-improved Elmo Sputterspark- _Megavolt_." His fingertips sparked automatically.

"It wasn't worth it, was it?" Gosalyn gently asked, after a moment for two.

Megavolt shook his head, sitting back down. "No," he whispered. "But... powers or no powers, is the Elmo deep inside really back? Or am I just fooling myself? Saving your life was the first non-evil thing I've ever done since I took on this identity and life-style. It was like finally awakening from a long and confusing nightmare. But can I really change back, or has Megavolt been a part of me for too long now?"

He was sobbing now.

Gosalyn said nothing, but found herself putting her arms around him in a tight hug. After awhile, he hugged her back and they remained in each-other's arms for the next few minutes, as though two dear friends, while he wept.

* * *

An immense flood of lights from Duckburg, far off in the distance, brilliantly illuminated the eastern skyline. Across the river that stretched all the way to the neighboring city, the ever-consistent beam of the lighthouse caressed the surface, casting ghost-like streams of silver before winding around again. But what completed this scene were the billions upon billions of sparkling diamonds against the dense, almost velvet heavens.

"_Keen gear_," Gosalyn breathed, sitting next to Elmo upon the roof.

Megavolt's expression was distant, and his voice was a combination of profound sadness and contentment. "I come up here every night."

"Really?"

"Mmm-hmm. Nothing else in the world fills me with greater peace and security, not even my collection of luminaries. But these..." He smiled as he swept a hand out before them, indicating the memorizing view. "These are the real lights."

They were both silent for several minutes, before Gosalyn spoke up. "What do you think about when you're up here?"

Megavolt frowned reflectively. "Well, mostly I just let my mind go blank, into almost a state of mediation. But sometimes I try to remember my old life... the actual good times, the days that really mattered."

Gosalyn looked up at him. "Does anything ever come back to you?"

"Well... that's kind of hard to say. Most of the time, it's just a bunch of vague, fleeting images all jumbled together, with only a spark of familiarity to them. But sometimes, if I concentrate hard enough, one image stands out slightly above the rest." He took a deep breath. "A woman, about middle-aged. And the really interesting thing is, I occasionally have dreams about that same face. Actually, it's not quite so much a picture in my mind's eye, but an extremely intense feeling of deja vu," he softly explained.

"Do you think she could be... your mother?"

Megavolt's voice was almost inaudible as he replied. "Yes," he said. "I do."

He shifted his weight. "You know, when I got my invitation to the high-school reunion, that was the first time in so long that I'd heard of the name Elmo Sputterspark. And that's when the origins of Megavolt all came back to me... but nothing else."

He whispered rhetorically, "_Why_?"

* * *

"It's Darkwing Duck!" Gosalyn exclaimed as they drove down that same street.

Darkwing was pacing back and forth in front of the theater, looking as worried as could be. Launchpad seemed to be trying to offer calming words, but from what Gosalyn could tell, it didn't seem to be having any effect.

"So it is," Megavolt said, not sounding surprised. He did, however, seem relieved.

The car pulled up to a halt in front of hero and sidekick, and Gosalyn got out.

"DW, look!"

Darkwing whirled around. "Gosalyn! Where were you? Do you have any idea how out of my mind with worry I've been?" he cried, half-furious, half-relieved.

"I'm fine, Da- er, Darkwing," Gosalyn quickly told him. "You'll never believe it, but Megavolt-"

"Megavolt?" It was just then that Darkwing noticed the car, with Megavolt standing outside.

He whipped out his gun immediately, and aimed it towards the electric rodent. "I was an idiot to let you go the other night! So help me, if you've harmed so much as a hair on this girl's head-"

"No, Darkwing! Megavolt didn't kidnap me, he rescued me! Do you think he'd just drop me off like this, if I was a hostage?"

There was a long pause. "Um... wait, what?" Darkwing blinked. "Run that by me again?"

Gosalyn explained exactly what had happened, and even gave a description of the two men. As she talked, Darkwing was dead-silent the entire time, his expression slowly ranging from a number of different emotions. Launchpad looked like he was going to faint.

He finally turned to Megavolt, looking every bit as shook-up as he felt. "Megavolt, I... I don't know what to say," he said quietly, when he somehow managed to find his voice again. He sounded as though there was a bone lodged in his throat. "You... you saved her life. You were there for her when I should have been, but wasn't. Oh, God, I- if you hadn't of been around..." He trailed off, a shudder ripping through him. "I can't... I can't thank you enough. I'll never forget this, Megavolt. If there's anything in my power I can do for you-"

Megavolt shook his head. "All I can say, Drake, is that you are a very lucky guy. And she's just as fortunate."

Darkwing, Launchpad, and Gosalyn all gaped. "What... what did you call me?" Darkwing slowly asked, stunned. "And how did you know that she-"

Megavolt just winked and smiled, before getting back in his car. He turned to face Gosalyn. "You take care of yourself now, Gos."

"Sure thing, Elmo. And thanks again."

"Hey, it's me that should be thanking you, kiddo," Megavolt replied. He waved, and drove off.

Darkwing stared after him for a long time, even long after he was out of sight. "I don't believe it. I just don't believe it."

He bent down and hugged Gosalyn tight, tears filling his eyes. "Oh, Gos, sweetie, I'm so sorry I lost track of the time tonight! I failed, both as a father and hero. When I think about what almost happened-" A choked sob escaped him.

"Dad, don't," Gosalyn chided him gently. "You heard Megavolt. I'm lucky to have such a wonderful figure in my life, hero or not."

"He was right on both counts, then," Darkwing said, smiling.

Launchpad spoke up, then. "But, uh, what are you going to do about him knowing certain information about you, DW?"

Darkwing sighed. "I don't know, Launchpad. But honestly, I'm not too worried about it. Not now, anyway."

Gosalyn looked at her father. "Dad," she said, "we need to talk. Is Morgana home from visiting her relatives in Transylvania yet?"

"I think she said she'd be back by next week. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I was hoping she'd have some kind of spell for restoring memory. You see, it's like this, Dad..."


	5. A Cry In the Dark

"I don't get it; I thought for sure he'd be at the lighthouse," a perplexed Gosalyn was saying, as the ThunderQuack flew back to Darkwing Tower.

Launchpad glanced over from his piloting. "Do you think he's out committing a crime somewhere, DW?"

"No way!" the duckling girl adamantly interceded. "Not after what he did for me, not after everything he said! I refuse to believe he'd give up so easily; he's been nothing but miserable all these years as Megavolt! He just never realized it until now."

Darkwing looked unusually thoughtful, and it was a minute before he responded. "All I know is that one of my prime arch-foes saved my little girl's life," he said in a distant tone, staring out the windshield towards the passing flood of lights that made up downtown St. Canard. Outside, the stars were already begging to settle in the evening sky. "This is unlike anything I ever could have imagined; and even if it's all an elaborate scheme on his part, I can't help but be grateful to him. As long as I live, I always will."

"What?" Gosalyn exclaimed her tone and face full of incredulous indignation.

"Don't misunderstand me!" Darkwing earnestly interjected. "This has nothing to do with my ego! Do you honestly believe I value my own stupid pride over you?"

Gosalyn shook her head. "Well, no, Dad; it's just that it's so typical of you to be so distrusting. I mean, how does one act of human decency and selflessness mean that he's up to something? Shouldn't it prove that he's on the level, if anything?"

"Gos, you've got to understand," Darkwing reasoned, "as a superhero, I'm torn over this whole thing. As much as I honestly do want to believe that he's changed, my... well, my crimefighter instincts force me to pursue the matter with nothing less than a cautious and skeptical mindset. I have to consider any possible alternative, given the unusual array of facts. There is a chance that he just tricked us, to lure me into a false sense of security. He's remembered my secret identity from the high-school reunion, he's finally put two-and-two together and figured out you're my daughter... and he knows that by saving your life, I would owe him in the extreme. For all I know, his demands could very well be among the lines of revealing myself to the rest of the St. Canard Underworld, or officially renouncing my title as the city's hero, to even surrendering myself." He sighed. "And I would comply with every one of them, without hesitation."

Both Gosalyn and Launchpad gaped at Darkwing, shock and horror wholly evident in their features. "Are you serious, DW?" Launchpad gasped.

"I said I valued Gosalyn above anything else, and I mean it. I wouldn't have a single regret. And he would still have my gratitude, right to the end."

"Dad..." Gosalyn whispered, little aware of the tears that had gathered at the corners of her eyes.

"But DW, don't forget- this is Megavolt we're talking about here," Launchpad pointed out.

"Launchpad's right, Dad. All that electricity to his brain, all these years... I mean, we all know he's a genius, but-"

Darkwing frowned. "True enough," he considered. "Well, it's certainly possible that he's on orders from Negaduck."

Gosalyn shook her head sadly. "I understand what you're saying, Dad, but... well, you weren't there when he talked to me that night. It was a side to him I never even knew existed; he was like a totally different person. And I seriously doubt that Megavolt's that good an actor."

"I hope you're right, Gosalyn. And if he passes Morgana's Truth Spell, then you can bet I'll give her the greenlight to restore his memories. And if not... I'll still ask her to," he said. "Until I defeated him last week, and he confronted our old high-school adversaries, I never imagined that he- my former classmate and fellow outcast, Elmo Sputterspark- was in so much pain. And now that I know of Megavolt's exact origins, I know it wasn't entirely his fault that he went down the path he did..."

"He lost his whole life that day, in that single moment," Gosalyn said quietly. "He even told me so. I can't imagine what it's like to have your entire past and future completely erased like that."

"Well, even if it turns out he was lying about wanting to change, I'm willing to help him get a second chance. Either way, he's obviously suffering badly, and the old Elmo has been a prisoner all this time. I know it's not like me to give any villain the benefit of the doubt, but between the two of you, Gos, I've learned that maybe he's not the twisted criminal I always knew him for- just a product of an unhealthy combination of long-time anger and instability."

"You really think that having his memories back will help him go back to being the guy he used to be?" Launchpad asked, intrigued.

Darkwing could only shrug. "Hey, it's just a theory at best, LP. But I'm willing to try anything once."

Suddenly, Gosalyn's sights came in contact with a strikingly-familiar figure sitting upon the edge of Audubon Bay Bridge. "Hey, speaking of which, is that- Dad, gimme your binoculars!" She glanced through them. "It is! It's Megavolt- I mean, Elmo!"

"Launchad! Take us down!" Darkwing ordered.

"Already on it, DW." The ThunderQuack gently dipped down towards the bridge, and safely landed a moment later, several meters from Megavolt's position.

The plane's top opened, Gosalyn being the first to scramble out. "What's he doing?" Launchpad wondered aloud, climbing out next, followed by Darkwing.

Darkwing frowned as he scrutinized their target, who sat still as a statue on the ledge with his back to them, head bowed. "Darned if I know. You'd think he didn't even notice us coming! He really seems out of it- and that's saying something!"

"Do you think he's... planning on jumping?"

"You raise a good point, LP." Alarm spilled over Darkwing's features. "He may very well be considering it, for all we know."

"What'll we do?" Gosalyn asked anxiously.

"We approach him carefully and quietly. The last thing we want is to startle him. It's vital that we get him to trust us." He motioned them forward.

The others crept behind him, until they were a little over a foot from the electric rat. "Let me make the first move," Gosalyn whispered.

"Absolutely not! There a good chance that he'll react defensively."

"But Dad, I'm pretty sure he trusts me. You should have seen him open up to me, that night at the lighthouse. He wouldn't hurt me."

"Maybe not intentionally, but he might realize too late who it was that snuck up behind him. You know how fast he strikes."

"Dad, trust me. I know what I'm doing. I promise I'll be careful."

Darkwing paused to consider, then sighed deeply. "All right." He reached for his gas gun. "But I'll be standing by; if I get the slightest indication of him harming you-"

"Gotcha." Gosalyn carefully moved towards Megavolt, as Darkwing and Launchpad waited tensely. She stopped when she was right beside him, and sat down. Apparently, his peripheral vision completely failed him at the moment.

She sat next to him for several seconds, before finally speaking. "Hi, Elmo." Her voice was calm and gentle.

"Huh?" Megavolt raised his head, blinking. Much to everybody's surprise, he didn't even jump at this sudden disruption of his repose. Gosalyn noted just how distracted his mumbled reply came out, while thickly layered with depression. He glanced around, his eyes suddenly meeting Gosalyn. "You- you're... Gosalyn Mallard."

"You remembered." Gosalyn grinned.

Megavolt gave a dry chuckle. "Well, in this case, it doesn't really surprise me." The duckling could not help but feel genuinely touched. "What're you doing here, anyway?"

"Um... how about you answer first?" Gos timidly proposed.

"No offense, kid, but I'm really not in the mood for guessing ga- oh! You mean, what am I doing here?" Megavolt shrugged. "Not a whole lot. Just... thinking."

"Are- are you ok?" Gosalyn remembered him telling her that his favorite spot for reflection was the roof of his lighthouse. Their fear seemed to be confirmed. "I mean, what'cha thinking about?" She tried to word it lightly, casually.

Megavolt's answer was blunt. "Ridding society of a terrible menace."

Gosalyn swallowed nervously. "Um, what menace, Elmo?" she forced herself to ask.

"Megavolt."

Gosalyn mentally panicked. She considered calling out to Darkwing to knock him out with his gas gun, so they could easily get him to Morgana's, but knew that that alternative would totally defeat the purpose of her plan. This called for extreme delicacy.

"Elmo? Um, tell me, why exactly was I so easy for you to remember? My name, that is."

Megavolt seemed a tad startled by the question. "Well, because," he said, "you were there for me, you know? You not only helped me realize that I alone was responsible for what my life is today, but you helped me confront my personal demons for the first time in years. You listened to me, you seemed to understand and sympathize."

"I do, Elmo. And I want you to understand that- especially right now, more than anything else. I'm also glad you seem to think I was a voice of logic and reason... but I'm just sorry that it wasn't worth remembering," she said sadly.

"What are you talking about? I just said that I-"

"Before or after you decided to totally disregard it, anyway?"

Understanding dawned in Megavolt's eyes, then frustration. "Look, kid, it's not that simple. Megavolt's been who and what I am for too long! This is the only way!"

"You're a liar!" Now, she had him. "A liar and a coward! It's like I told you, if you really do remember- you always have a choice! You're making one right now, Sputterspark, and it's NOT a good one! There's always another way, and you know it! Why else would you have bothered to save my life that night? Or do you regret that now?"

"No! I told you- it was like finally finding light at the end of a long, dark tunnel after wandering around lost for so long. But-"

"So you say it gave you some clarity, a purpose, huh?" she challenged.

"I- yes! But you gotta realize, as great as it truly felt, it was still a totally foreign experience for me! And as much as I want to rid myself of Megavolt, I'm... I'm SCARED, all right? What if I just can't? What if there is no hope?"

Gosalyn glared at him. "Are you deaf, or just stupid? THERE IS HOPE! You proved that by caring about somebody other than yourself! But if you don't even try, then Elmo Sputterspark really is dead!"

The prongs on Megavolt's helmet began to spark fiercely, and he leaped to his feet and began to furiously pace in a circle. "OHHH, STOP IT! YOU'RE CONFOUNDING ME TO MADNESS, I TELL YOU, MADNESS! I'M GETTING A HEADACHE!"

"No, Elmo," came the familiar voice from behind him, and he whipped around, startled. "You're seeing the truth. But it's all too easy to run away, to hide from your past."

"You!"

Darkwing nodded, with a slight smile. "Yup. Drake Mallard, to you."

"Well, Drake!" Megavolt snarled. "You, of all people, should be throwing me over yourself! How many times, including the last, have I tried to do in you and yours- especially your own daughter; a mere child, for God's sake!" His voice broke severely. "I'm sick, I'm twisted, I'm deranged! Don't tell me YOU think I deserve a chance, or I'll really lose what's left of my sanity!"

"Sorry, but I'm going to have to side with Gos here, pal. May I also remind you, on a minor note, that you chose to spare my life only recently?"

"So I couldn't bring myself to kill my old classmate! So I couldn't let those creeps harm Gosalyn!" He winced. "That's hardly the point! Does it change everything I've ever done? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME? HOW CAN YOU POSSIBLY KNOW WHO I AM, WHEN I DON'T EVEN KNOW?"

Darkwing looked at him. "I think you're the one missing the point here. We just want you to find it in you to forgive yourself. We want you to let us help you. We trust you- all we ask is that you extend a bit of that faith yourself," he said gravely.

"You- you can't help me. How can you possibly help me?" Megavolt demanded, struggling vainly to hold back tears.

"Just come with us. We have a plan- well, actually, it was Gosalyn's plan," Darkwing said, with a grin.


	6. Painful Return To Yesterday

"Well, Dark, his story checks out. Everything he said was the truth," Morgana reported, looking rather surprised. On the couch, next to where she stood, the one formally known as Elmo Sputterspark was seated. He still appeared slightly dazed, as a result of the aftermath of the spell she had just performed on him.

"Keen gear, that probably works better than any lie-detector test!" Gosalyn piped up, impressed. "Dad should bring all the criminals he captures to you; I'd like to see any of 'em fool the system then!"

Morgana nodded. "Yes, the Truth Spell is extremely potent and accurate. There's positively no way the person can avoid its effects."

"Not even a certain little miss trying to get out of doing her homework, I'd wager," Darkwing said wryly, glancing at his daughter.

Megavolt sighed, rubbing his head. "Ok," he muttered, "so now that you know I'm on the level, and all, what next?"

"Now, I will attempt to access your dormant memories," Morgana replied, smiling.

"How're you going to do that?"

"Through a rather complex procedure known as a Memory Transfer. The spell will allow me to link my mind directly to yours in order to gain a clear, first-hand view into the depths of your subconscious. Once the spell is cast, you will automatically be put into a deep sleep-like state, which will make the process much easier for us both. Everything you see in your mind's eye, I will see; everything you feel, I will feel."

"Like a Vulcan mind-meld?" Gosalyn asked.

"Similar." Mrogana opened her book of sorcery. She quickly consulted the index. "Here we are; Page 2183."

Megavolt shrugged. "Sounds painless enough, I guess. Just as long as I remember enough to give me some clue where to go from here," he muttered, his voice distinctly skeptic.

Gosalyn gave Megavolt's hand a comforting squeeze. He started at the sudden touch, but smiled gratefully at her.

"Ready?" Morgana asked him.

"Ready as I'll ever be..."

Morgana placed her hands on either side of Megavolt's head, where the plug-shaped helmet usually resided. She began to chant in a low, deep voice as before, in what was clearly another language- most likely some form of ancient Latin, Megavolt could only assume, and even now it distinctly sent chills running through his spine; she sounded more possessed than ever. He wondered if that was truly the case when she worked her spells, whether or not she actually became a virtual gateway to the other side, inviting various spirits in; maybe that's where non-mortals like her really derived their talents from.

He realized for the first time in his life, even after all his time with the Fearsome Five, that it indeed took all sorts- even those select few gifted with different forces of the universe on their side, both natural and supernatural; after all, he could summon forth the element of electricity at his will, with the ability to command and channel it. There were far too many strange and fantastical mysteries in the world for the average mind to begin to properly ponder... and perhaps it was the abnormal, the freaks, the outcasts that dared not linger in prejudiced society but in the darkest shadows, that dwelled at the heart of it all... with the power to either make or break the world, to mould the planet into their own image for better or for worse. They were the ones who existed behind the scenes as the objects of much whisper and rumor; the feared ones, misunderstood, ridiculed for what was beyond their greatest control in the end.

However, almost as soon as he had entertained this concept- unusually philosophical for him, at that- Megavolt's eyelids and limbs became as heavy as cement blocks, and a wave of sheer tranquility rolled down his every nerve, quickly succumbing him deep under.

Almost immediately, a cornucopia of images began to advance before his mind's eye, similar to frames on a movie reel. They started out blurry and distorted, bearing only a vague semblance of familiarity, but gradually grew clearer and clearer, all the while flowing quite apace. As the scenes played on, passing through various significant points during his past life as time progressed, the one formerly known as Elmo Sputterspark became assaulted with an onslaught of raw emotions of old- ranging from joy, to bittersweet, to terrible sadness.

The last thing he saw was a pretty young girl, a rat like him. It was the night of the Senior Prom and they were both standing outside, just behind the gym. As it was June, it was still fairly light, although dusk was just beginning to settle; the evening seemed clear and cloudless, with the faintest twinkling of the first stars. The girl wore a simple teal-green gown, modestly cut, which still nicely accented her bosom although she was not a big-breasted female. Draped down her arms were matching gloves. Elmo, on the other hand, wore a yellow jumpsuit, rubber gloves, goggles, and blue boots; his black hair resembled a style which was had begun to deteriorate with the arrival of the eighties- large, poofy, and frizzled, which did not suit him in the least. Elmo and the girl appeared to be engaged in a very intense conversation, based on their expressions and body language. He seemed horribly frantic, furious, and overall crazed, as he raved and clutched wildly at his hair; she was a mixture of sheer confusion and horror. After laughing manically for a minute, while she desperately tried to reason with him, it were as though somebody hit a switch- all signs of insanity drained from him, as well as all the life from him; he now appeared exhausted, overcome with a sense of deep regret. Taking her by the hands, he spoke solemnly and sadly to her, before brushing her tears away and finally kissing her. 'I love you', he clearly said to her, before wincing sharply as though in terrible pain, and rushed into the school without sparing a glance back. The girl stared after him in a state of shock, trembling from head to toe, then turned and fled down the darkened street...

"Don't cry for me, Eleanor," Megavolt mumbled aloud, still trapped in his memories. "I'm already dead." Hot tears spilled down his cheeks, causing a slight spark to emit from the tips of one of his whiskers.

His eyes flittered open, and he slowly sat up with all the stamina of an old man having reached the end of a long and wretched life. His beady eyes stared out into space, more focused than anybody in the room had ever seem them. At last he spoke:

"I gotta go."

Without saying another word, he turned and ran out of the room.

Darkwing blinked after him. "What was that all about?"

Morgana shook her head sadly. "Oh, Dark. You wouldn't believe everything he's ever been through, all during his youth. And that night he became the villain Megavolt, he lost far more than you realize- the only thing left for him to live for."


	7. Flashback: Defying Gravity

I wanted to try a little something different for this flashback chapter. Lyrics to 'Defying Gravity' are from the Broadway musical _Wicked. _I altered them slightly to fit the characters and situation. It is an excellent song, so definitely look it up on YouTube.

The OC Eleanor is (c) Aranori, and is being used with permission.

* * *

"Elmo... what- what's happened to you? What's going on?" Eleanor asked slowly. Aside from obvious concern and confusion, there was a definite hint of fear in her voice that she mentally attempted to deny, however weak or futile. This was her dearest friend, who she loved and trusted with all her heart. How could she possibly be afraid of him?

It wasn't so much the bizarre get-up, nor the horribly uncharacteristic afro-style hair, but those *eyes*. Eyes which lacked all reason and sanity. Beady, glinting, wild eyes which held no real focus, unnervingly inconsistent, even though they stared directly at her.

This wasn't her Elmo. It couldn't be the same individual with whom she had developed a strong relationship for so many months now, one of mutual comfort and encouragement in their otherwise-disheartening lives. The one with whom she had made plans to go to the Senior Prom, a true milestone for them together, which would undoubtedly prove to be memorable and significant on a far deeper level than for most of their fellow students.

She had been in high spirits all week, since he had worked up the courage to ask her, and had spent all that time- up to and including that very evening- preparing for this. Now, as she stood there in her teal-green gown outside the school, where she had gone to meet him when he failed to pick her up at her place- highly strange and unnerving in itself- she felt, for the first time, that this was a complete stranger.

"Hello, Eleanor," he had greeted her in response to the gasp that intially flew from her mouth, having seemed to creep up behind her out of nowhere. He wore a grin that bore none of his usual warmth and innocence, but one that marked a truly deranged individual, and it sent icy chills to pierce the center of her heart. "Are you ready for a truly electrifying night?"

To her prior questions, he said shrewdly, "Oh, I suppose I have changed a bit. But for the better, don't you think, my dear?" A high-pitched cackle, like nothing he had ever uttered before, escaped him.

"Are you ok?" she asked faintly, devastated. But it wasn't until he snapped his fingers, and a spark of blue current emitted from them, that the horror sank in.

"Never better!" he rasped, casually playing with the electricity with as little ease as a child might creatively control a toy of some sort.

Without warning, it formed into a large glowing ball of energy and he hurled it directly at a flashy car in the parking lot, several feet away, which Eleanor immediately recognized- as did everybody in school- as Hamm String's. A split second after, only ashes remained.

"I'm a pretty good shot, huh?" he said airily, blowing the excess smoke from his fingertip. "Been practicing. Such a shame 'ol Porky wasn't inside, though. Oh, well; I'll be frying his bacon soon anyway. Him and that little slut of his." Ignoring the strangled sound that came from Eleanor, he cried, throwing his hands into the air, "And why stop there? I'll make the entire student body tremble at my power... and then destroy them all, too!"

There was only silent shock and horror for response.

Elmo looked at her quizzically. "Eleanor, what's the matter? Why are you trembling?You- you don't honestly believe, for a second, that I would dream of hurting you...?" His expression slowly mirrored hers, and he reached out for her.

Eleanor wrenched away from his touch. "You think I can be sure of that? The Elmo I know- once knew- would never dream of harming a fly!" She shook her head wildly, and continued to back away. "What is this, Elmo? What's happened to you?"

Elmo followed her, his face now registering hurt. "Eleanor, don't you see? Something truly, unexplainably incredible has happened to me! This is what I've always dreamed of! For the first time in my life, I have the ability to thwart my oppressors- our oppressors! Eleanor, I'm doing this for yourself just as much as me, if not more! Too long have we suffered all our lives at the hands of others! Now, we can finally have our vengeance! We'll make them pay, every last one of them, see that they don't live to regret how they hurt us! This is our chance!" His very body beamed as he spoke excitedly, as though he were a living hundred-watt bulb. "They say the meek shall inherit, and you know the Good Book doesn't lie!"

"So, that's your answer? You would lower yourself to- to-" She swallowed visibly. "_Murder_? In cold blood? No remorse?"

"_Remorse_?" Elmo exclaimed, looking both amused and outraged. "Show me the one who ever showed us any remorse or mercy, and I'll do the same unto him!" He sneered. "No! This is the only way. I admit- as a scientist, one dedicated only to stone-cold logic, the notion of fate and divine intervention should hold no sway over me, but science has also taught me to adhere to the facts; that by elimination of the impossible, whatever remains- however improbable- is nothing but the truth! Don't you see? It was not merely through some freak chance that I was granted this power. This is my destiny!"

He grinned wickedly, glancing toward the building. "And speaking of elimination..."

"You're crazy, Elmo Sputterspark! I don't know who you are anymore!" She took a deep breath, tightly choking back a sob. "And you have to be stopped, for the sake of everybody including you!"

"NO!" Elmo screamed. It happened in a literal flash, and the female rat was immediately struck backward onto the pavement.

"ELEANOR!" Elmo rushed to her side, and carefully began to check her pulse. He was relieved to see that she had merely been stunned, and had somehow not even been knocked unconscious. "Thank God, thank God," he murmured frantically, upon learning that her vital sings were stable. "Oh, Eleanor, how could you? How could I have anticipated such a whim? I couldn't live with myself if I- if you- oh, sweet Edison, WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?"

He reached out to help her to her feet, but Eleanor shrieked, "Don't touch me! You freak! You monster!"

Now, it was his turn to reel back in shock, his expression precisely matching hers when she had been hit. "What did you say?" he whispered, disbelief and agony present in his voice, trailing off into a raspy squeak.

"Do YOU understand now, Elmo? If you truly loved me, you wouldn't do this! Look at yourself, look at what you've become! This is not the Elmo I know and love! He would never conceive doing anything that would put me at risk! You're a danger to me, to yourself, and to everybody." She was openly crying now as she stared defiantly at him, her mascara streaming down her cheeks. "And I'll do anything to stop whatever has possessed you."

Elmo was silent for a long time after she delivered this earnest statement, which bore all the weight of a promise. He could see it in her eyes; she was every bit as determined as him.

What did this mean? What did this make her to him?

They were on different sides.

If he wasn't with her...

At last, he spoke again. "You would risk your life to stop me? You would put yourself in harm's way... for them? Knowing that I could never directly oppose you? You would do that to me?"

She did not answer.

"I don't... why... it's not- NO!" he suddenly screamed, his emotional and mental agony twisting together to form a truly frightening scene; despite herself, she could not bear to look into his face at that moment, a face that conveyed terrible madness and despair. He screamed at the top of his lungs, tore wildly at his hair, having fallen to his knees. All the while, a great orb of blue-and-yellow wholly enveloped him, seeming to consume him alive, almost threatening to explode at any second.

At last he stopped, harshly panting, his energy entirely spent for the time being. He slowly rose to his feet, and turned to face her. His face was unreadable, which frightened her even more.

"Elmo... why couldn't you have just stayed calm, instead of flying off the handle?" Eleanor exclaimed. "Then none of this would have happened, and we'd still be happy together, sharing the start of something truly special this very moment!" For, at this point, there seemed like very little hope for him. "Well, at least-

_I hope you're happy!_

_I hope you're happy now!_

_I hope you're happy how_

_You've destroyed your life forever_

_I hope you think you're clever!"_

"I hope you're happy, toots," Elmo snarled back.

_"I hope you're happy, too_

_I hope you're proud how you_

_Would grovel in submission_

_To feed your own ambition!"_

They glared at each-other, before simultaneously crying,

_"So, though I can't imagine how,_

_I hope you're happy_

_Right now!"_

"Elmo. Listen to me. It's not too late. Please, let me help you," Eleanor pleaded.

"_You can still graduate, go to college,_

_What you've worked and waited for_

_You can have all you ever wanted..."_

"I know," Elmo said, his voice barely above a whisper. He had turned his back to her, and now he was facing her sadly.

_"But I don't want it... no_

_I can't want it_

_Anymore._

_Something has changed within me_

_Something is not the same_

_I'm through with playing by the rules_

_Of someone else's game_

_Too late for second-guessing,_

_Too late to go back to sleep_

_It's time to trust my instincts,_

_Close my eyes and leap!_

_It's time to try_

_Defying gravity_

_I think I'll try_

_Defying gravity_

_And you can't pull me down!"_

"Can't I make you understand? You're having delusions of grandeur!"

Elmo ignored her and continued, his voice ringing with even greater determination:

"_I'm through accepting limits_

_'Cause someone says they're so_

_Some things I cannot change_

_But till I try, I'll never know_

_Too long I've been afraid of_

_Losing life I guess I've lost_

_Well, if that's life,_

_It comes at much too high a cost!_

_I'd sooner buy_

_Defying gravity_

_Kiss me goodbye,_

_I'm defying gravity_

_And you can't pull me down!"_

He suddenly gripped her hands. "Eleanor- come with me!" he begged desperately. "Think of what we could do- _together_!

_Unlimited_

_Together, we're unlimited_

_Together, we'll be the greatest team_

_There's ever been_

_Eleanor-_

_Dreams, the way we planned 'em..."_

"_If we work in tandem_-" Eleanor murmured, slowly meeting his earnest gaze.

She found herself singing along with him, _"-There's no fight we cannot win..._

_Just you and I_

_Defying gratify_

_With you and I_

_Defying gravity-_

_"They'll never bring us down_," Elmo breathed, holding her close.

With her hand still in his, he began toward the school. "Well? Are you coming?"

She hesitated for what seemed indefinitely, losing herself more with each second within the tarnished windows to his soul which she could have sworn held a spark of old, forcing herself to deny the cruel force of wishful thinking.

But then, she found herself slowly pulling away from him. A deep crack formed in her heart at the unmistakable response that silently made its way across his features.

But she had to be strong.

"I do want us to be together, Elmo," she told him, struggling against her tears. "More than anything I've ever wanted in my entire life. But not like this.

_I hope you're happy,_

_Now that you're choosing this."_

With a shaky breath, Elmo finally managed to choke out,

_"You, too_

_I hope life brings you bliss."_

They said to each-other,

_"I really hope you get it,_

_And you don't live to regret it_

_I hope you're happy in the end_

_I hope you're happy..._

_My friend."_

Seconds later, a great bolt flew across the heavens, though there was no sign of rain to speak of. But a storm was brewing nonetheless, one beyond either of their control.

Elmo cried out, his fingertips sparking erratically,

_"So, if you care to find me,_

_Look to the lighted sky!_

_As I have learned lately,_

_Everyone deserves a chance to fly!_

_And if I'm flying solo,_

_At least I'm flying free_

_To those who'd ground me,_

_Take a message back from me-"_

Now his entire form glowed with burning energy, as the sky continued to flash and crack overhead.

_"Tell them how I'm_

_Defying gravity!_

_I'm flying high,_

_Defying gravity!_

_And soon I'll match them in renown!_

_And nobody in St. Canard,_

_No hero that there is or was,_

_Is ever gonna BRING ME DOWN!"_

He thrust his hands in the air, appearing to seamlessly conduct the above element like music, cackling long and loudly into the night.

"I hope you're happy!" Eleanor called out to him above the noise, the remainder of her heart shattering as she backed away.

-"_BRING-ME-DOWN_!"

Eleanor turned and fled down the street, sobbing, the rolling echoes of his insane laughter and new craft haunting her with every step. It was a sound that would be forever etched into her memory and her dreams.

Elmo stared after her for a long time, then headed inside the school to attend to business.


	8. The Importance of Being Elmo

A/N- _Because I am a freaking perfectionist, I've had to re-upload this thing a few times. Stupid typos, and shit. Well, I notice them! _

* * *

The entire time Megavolt remained kneeling at the pair of tombstones, he barely found himself aware of the risk of shorting out. He had already wept an ocean of tears, which blurred the interior of his goggles, and several tiny sparks had sprayed from his snout and whisker-tips.

But, for the first time, it remained the furthest thing from his mind.

"I'm so... _s-s-so sorry_," he gasped, getting the soil beneath his hands wetter still. "It should be me lying here, instead of you." He closed his eyes, heaving a shaky sigh. "But then, I've been dead for the past fifteen years, in a cold, lonely grave I dug all by myself."

He curled up in a fetal position, yearning for nothing more than to sink into the ground, to rest beside them for all eternity. "But, no," he whispered in self-disgust, in response to his thoughts, "that's far more than I deserve. I know I have no right to even be here. But I had to come... I just had to..."

He did not know how long he lay there for, the icy void of his own misery and loneliness dragging him further under until he eventually knew no more. When he finally came to, twilight had vanished, and all the luminaries of the universe- those which he secretly loved more than any artificial, man-made light- were softly gazing down on him like watchful, sympathetic eyes. As he had recently confessed to Gosalyn, nothing filled with greater peace and calm than watching them from the roof of his lighthouse, sometimes for hours on end. It was his private nightly ritual, and the only time he ever felt... normal, completely unburdened by his overwhelming insanity. There were no chorus of voices attached to these lights, only pure silence and stillness.

And until this very moment, with all his memories perfectly intact for the first time in years, he had never truly been conscious of the simple fact that it was the closest he ever felt to being Elmo Sputterspark again.

"But I'll never truly be Elmo Sputterspark again. I've been enslaved by Megavolt for too long to really be whole again. Elmo- the old Elmo- would never have harmed a fly. He never would have resorted to such desperate, fiendish measures. No matter how much I retain of my old self, no matter how much I try to return to a simpler time, I'll always find myself standing in Megavolt's shadow. I can run, but I can't hide from him... and even then, I can probably only run for so long," he moaned.

He pounded the hard ground, and cursed loudly. "I just don't know!" he shouted. "Even after having my memories restored, I'm more torn and frightened than ever!" Sniffling, he glanced up at the graves before him, and winced. "And I would be lying through my teeth if I said I didn't know why. I'd do anything to make things right again, to bring back all I've ever lost. But it's not like I can-"

Suddenly, Megavolt was on his feet, a desperate look of inspiration gleaming across his face, illuminated by the face of the moon. "That- that's it! Of course! I have the answer!" He laughed wildly- similar in volume and pitch to his usual mad cackle, but resonating instead of pure relief and hope. He turned, and fled from the cemetery. "It may be a long shot, but there's only one person I can rely on now. I just hope he'll be willing to help me."

* * *

The ThunderQuack made an unusually smooth touch-down, upon the broad rooftop of just one of the hundreds of buildings that made up downtown St. Canard. The top opened and Darkwing jumped out, a combination of irritation and confusion evident in his face.

"But, DW," the Duck Knight's best friend and sidekick was saying, "what makes you so sure that Megavolt's behind this city-wide blackout?"

"Will you get a grip, Launchpad?" Darkwing said, slightly exasperated, gas gun at the ready. "This is no random blackout. You know as well as I do that there's only one power-pilfering poindexter that's almost always behind such peculiarities!" He paused, raising an eyebrow. "Only-"

"Only we all thought for sure that Megavolt had changed- or, at least, really wants to," Launchpad finished. "I don't get it. Morgana's Truth Spell-"

"I know, I know! She even said that there is no possible way to tamper with such a potent spell. It would take a pretty powerful warlock to get around its effects, falsify his responses; and Megavolt is powerful, all right, but not in the otherworldly sense. I hate to admit it, LP, but I still find it a tad difficult to fully distrust him... because, more importantly, I trust Morgana."

"But what if all those memories were just too much for him?" Launchpad pointed out. "Morgana did say that said that a lot of them were pretty darn painful. Maybe he decided that being a villain is just easier, since he wouldn't have to face them then."

Darkwing nodded. "That was my guess, too. You know, I never thought I'd say this about one of my greatest arch-foes, but I can't help but feel sorry for the guy. I know he never originally chose this path. He never asked for it, he never foresaw any of it. It's not his fault his brain is so fried, his sense of reality and right-and-wrong so warped. As a former classmate, and one who understands what it's like to be a social outcast, I want to help him in any way I can."

"What're you going to do, DW?" Launchpad questioned.

"Well, like our last encounter on Audubon Bay Bridge, I'm going to approach him as a friend rather than an enemy. I'm going to try and reason with him. There may be a way to get through to him yet."

Launchpad did not look entirely convinced. "Ok, but I don't like this. Don't you want me to watch your back, at least?"

Darkwing shook his head. "No, just wait here. He'll probably be more likely to trust me if I go to him alone." As an afterthought, he put away his gun. "And unarmed."

"Good luck, DW. Be careful."

Darkwing spotted Megavolt on the other side of the roof, sitting on the edge. He walked up to him, stopping about a foot away, and spoke his name gently. "Megavolt?"

Megavolt whipped around. "Oh, Darkwing! You're here!" He immediately got to his feet, raising his hands in a gesture of submission. "Look, I'm really sorry about this. I'll put all the lights back on, I promise!" In a literal flash, he did just that. "I just didn't know how else to get your attention."

Darkwing blinked. "Oh, well, you've definitely got it. Um, so, what's on your mind, Megavolt?"

Megavolt closed his eyes, wincing sharply. "Please! Don't call me that anymore! I'm trying to sever all ties to that part of my life!"

Normally, Darkwing would have remarked that there was nothing apparently former about his trademark suit, which he still wore, but he knew that such a quip would be anything but appropriate or funny now. Besides, Megavolt probably had nothing else to wear. "All right, Elmo then. I guess, since we're here alone and all, you can call me Drake."

Megavolt nodded. "Darkw- Drake... first of all, I really want to thank you and your friends for giving me the benefit of the doubt. It's way more than I deserve. I gotta say, I'm not used to such kindness and understanding. I've heard it said that if you only worry about yourself, you'll just end up lonely and unhappy. As a villain, all I've ever thought about is myself, and look where it's gotten me- nowhere, absolutely nowhere. Only now am I truly starting to realize the consequences of my actions!"

"But you made up for years of selfishness and irresponsibility by saving Gosalyn," Darkwing pointed out. "Maybe it doesn't change all the mistakes you've made, but even you've admitted that it was a significant breakthrough, a first step in the right direction after leaving the Fearsome Five."

"Well... I would like to believe there is a chance I can make good, find a whole, new place in society where I can maybe make a difference. Continue where I left off, all those years ago... before..." Megavolt trailed off in thought. "And I had started to believe that getting my memories restored might bring some clarity to my life, help me figure out what I really want out of it now. But the truth is, I'm more mixed-up than ever. I still don't know who I am, not really. All I know for certain is what I've lost... who I've lost, what they've lost because of me." He mumbled, shaking his head, "And the _guilt_... you have no idea. How is it worth it, knowing what I know now, how?"

Darkwing looked at him sympathetically. "You know, Elmo, Morgana didn't share what she saw that night."

"Really?" Megavolt raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Yeah. She thought your privacy had been invaded enough by her, even if you never actually remembered anything until then."

"Well, I appreciate that," Megavolt said softly. He was silent for several seconds after, his gaze heavily focused on the brilliant night-sky.

Darkwing hesitated, then placed a delicate hand on Megavolt's shoulder. "It's totally up to you, Elmo. But if you want to talk about it, I'm more than willing to listen. I only want to understand better, to help."

Megvolt slowly turned to face him. Darkwing noticed, for the first time just how bloodshot his eyes were. "All right, look. The only reason I'm going to tell you any of this is so you'll understand the urgency behind my request."

"Request?"

"Yes. I need your help, and if you really want to help me, then this is the only way. Megavolt should never have been born, and I've got to see to it that he never was in the first place."

"Are you saying-?"

"First, let me explain. It was the evening of the Prom, a week after I had gained my new powers..."

* * *

_"I just don't know what's gotten into him,"_ _Mrs. Sputterspark was anxiously saying to her husband as she joined him in the dining-room with a steaming mug of coffee. "From the moment he got home from his final day of exams, last Friday, he's locked himself in his bedroom. He won't come downstairs, he won't talk to us, and he'll only eat if we leave his meals outside his door."_

_"Honey, we've been through this," Mr. Sputterspark reasoned with her. "You know Elmo; he's always a bit of a recluse when he's working on an experiment. You know that project he's been at for weeks now, the one on harnessing static electricity to power lights? Don't forget, it's all he ever talked about. I don't think he's ever been more enthusiastic about his work! And don't forget how thrilled he's been over his big night tonight!"_

_"But to be withdrawn and isolated to this extent? It's just not like him, and you know it!" Mrs. Sputterspark argued. "You know there's something different about him, Edmund; I've seen it in your eyes. You can't tell me otherwise! It's as though he wants nothing to do with us! The more we try to talk to him, the more he pushes us away! I thought for sure he was just sick at first, but he's been eating everything we've left for him."_

_Under the purely adamant tone and face of his wife, Edmund Sputterspark could not help but falter. "Oh, Irma, maybe you're right," he quietly admitted with a sigh, stealing a glance towards the ceiling. "It has been on my mind, too. I suppose I just didn't want you to worry so much. I tried to convince myself, convince the both of us, that his behavior was perfectly normal, especially given the circumstances. I only hope it is nothing more than excitement over everything; heck, even nerves."_

_"Something must be really bothering him," Irma Sputterspark said, pushing away her untouched mug. "Something must have happened at school that day. Now, you and I both know it couldn't have anything to do with his exams. And even though all his life he's suffered so much at the cruel hands of his peers, he's never let it get him down. He's always been, well, my perky little ball of sunshine. And he's always willing to confide in us when something's on his mind."_

_She suddenly gasped. "Edmund! Do you think it could be drugs?"_

_Mr. Sputterspark looked both disgusted and outraged. "Irma! Have you lost your senses? Our son, given in to such temptation? You just finished saying how strong he is! You'll never convince me of such a ridiculous notion!"_

_Mrs. Sputterspark's face became clouded over with great shame. "Oh, Edmund- your're right; I'm sorry. I know in my heart Elmo would never..." She suddenly broke down crying. "But if it's not drugs or alcohol, then what could be wrong? Damnit, Edmund, I want my baby back!"_

_"Oh, now, Irma," Edmund began weakly, "he's not a child anymore. He's a brilliant young man, on the verge of graduating and taking his well-deserved place in the world."_

_"You know what I mean, Edmund! But I can't stand this anymore!" She rose to her feet, nearly knocking over her coffee. "I don't care if I am overreacting- I won't have my only son a stranger to his own parents."_

_Mr. Sputterspark nodded, standing up. "You're right, dear. I think we've given the boy more than enough privacy. It's time to find out what's going on. Besides," he added, glancing at the clock, "I think it's just about time for him to pick up his date, isn't it?"_

_Mrs. Sputterspark sighed. "And this is supposed to be a happy night for all of us. You know, I've said it before, and I'll say it again- I never thought I'd live to see him with a girl, even if they are mostly friends. I just hope he'll be back to his old self after the Prom." She sniffled. "My boy... going to his Senior Prom... with a date of his own."_

_"Well, she seems to make him very happy. I'm sure she's just what he needs to lift his spirits. It'll work out fine, Irma. You'll see." Mr. Sputterspark smiled with loving encouragement at his wife, holding her hand. _

_Mrs. Sputterspark smiled weakly, then suddenly gasped. "He couldn't have gotten her preg-"_

_"Irma!"_

_Mrs. Sputterspark sighed wearily. "I know; I'm sorry."_

_Once upstairs, his mother knocked at Elmo's door. "Elmo, dear? It's past seven. Are you ready?"_

_There was only the repeated sound of the output of volts, for answer. _

_Mr. Sputterspark knocked, with significantly greater force than his wife. "Elmo, I don't think we need to tell you that it's rude to keep a lady waiting. Now, whatever you're working on, it can surely wait. As it is, I think you've already had a substantial amount of time to work on it all this week!"_

_"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!"_

_It was one of the few sentences Elmo had spoken as of late. But the truly shocking part was that Elmo had never spoken to them like that before._

_Mrs. Sputterspark burst into tears. "I knew something was wrong, I just knew it! Elmo- sweetie, open up! Talk to us, please! What's going on with you?"_

_"Elmo Sputterspark!" his father roared. It was equally uncharacteristc for him, having rarely raised his voice with his son before. "If you are not out here in five seconds, I'm breaking down the door! Do you hear me? Have you any idea what you're putting your poor mother through?"_

_"I SAID, GO AWAY!"_

_It all happened so fast. His mother's sobbing... his father's counting down, then just proceeding to make good on his promise... and a blinding flash, like an explosion, that blasted the door off its hinges, the mammoth force sending both his parents crashing backwards along with it. Screams... coughs... weak, albeit horrified gasps... and soon, the only sound left was the leftover sparking and sizzling of Elmo's glowing, electrified form, easily drowned out by his own screaming._

* * *

"I knew immediately what I had done," Megavolt was saying, his voice cold and distant, as though no longer aware of Darkwing's presence. "But at the time, it was only on a subconscious level that I recognized the fault as entirely mine. Shock turned to horror, horror turned to grief, grief to pure _rage_. That String was guilty of making my school-life hell all those years, and then turning me into a freak, suddenly became only the tip of the iceberg. I had initially planned to wreak my vengeance on the entire school that night, especially him and Preena Lott, and now I had far greater incentive to do so. I blamed them both for the deaths of my parents, since it was them who made me what I was in the first place."

After struggling to compose himself, he then went on to tell Darkwing about his short-lived relationship with Eleanor, and how they had parted for good that night. "Blind fool that I was, again I failed to truly realize that I had only myself to blame. But I felt so hurt and ultimately betrayed by my one-and-only dearest friend, that she would put herself in harm's way to stop me from punishing our common oppressors, that she would choose them over me, knowing that I could never directly oppose her... and when she almost got badly injured for her efforts, and I thought I had killed her like my parents... I think that was the final kick to send me over the edge for good."

His voice trailed off into a sob, and he vainly fought back tears. In the meanwhile, Darkwing sat beside him, staring intently with nothing less than blatant shock and compassion. All the years he had fought against Megavolt, all the time they had been sworn enemies, he had never imagined anything like this. On the night of the high-school reunion, after he had thwarted him for the last time, the origins of the supervillain Megavolt had all spilled out; and Darkwing had found himself feeling oddly understanding and sympathetic. But now he realized just how much he really had lost.

And maybe, he also realized, that it wasn't just years of having his brain cells fried- including the incident that started it all- that caused him such memory-loss, but an inherent desire to suppress the truly painful memories. Soon, a life of crime would be all he would ever know, and nothing else would matter to him anymore.

"You know, I didn't really join the Fearsome Five for power, wealth, and vengeance against you," Megavolt suddenly muttered, breaking the painful silence. Darkwing looked at him curiously, sadly, nodding at him to continue. "And I think I speak for all of us when I say this, since we were nothing but a group of outcasts with sorry stories to tell. I think we all wanted to feel a sense of belonging, to feel like 'one of the guys.' I guess, really, friendship was all we really wanted. We respected each-other, we watched each-other's backs, we were as close as brothers. We were probably the closest team of badniks there's ever been," he said, chuckling quietly. He sighed, shaking his head. "But, even so... I know now that it's not worth it. I can never go back. It's time to put the past behind me, once-and-for-all. Will you help me, Drake?"

"I'll do what I can, Elmo. What do you need?"

"The Time Top," Megavolt answered bluntly.

Darkwing blinked. "Wait... what?"

"Quackerjack's old invention, remember? You confiscated it from us that night? Please tell me it's still in your possession, Darkwing! Please tell me Elmo Sputterspark can live again!" Megavolt was shaking him desperately, looking very much like the crazed nutter he had always known.

"Elmo... I want you to listen to me carefully, all right?" Darkwing looked at him sternly. "First of all, everything that happened on Prom Night was a tragic accident, a terrible turn of misfortune... just like your whole transformation, in the first place. None of it was anybody's fault. And I almost wish I could say that I know what it's like to lose a significant part of your life, let alone everything... but I can't, and I pray I never do. I know I'll never truly understand just what you've been through. But that has nothing to do with why I can't let you change history." He paused. "But, then, it has everything to do with it. Look, Elmo- you might say both of our lives were defined that evening, years ago. You officially became Megavolt, and I became Darkwing Duck. I realized what my purpose was in life, I realized that I could become a hero to so many who have nobody to turn to in times of fear, trouble, and chaos. I admit it- even since high-school, I've had a bit of an inflated ego, but only to make up for a lifetime of low self-esteem and nagging self-doubt. I've always been afraid of failure, uncertain of myself. I had always wanted to make a difference, but until that night, I never really knew what to do with my life. But attention-seeking aside, at the heart of it all, I just wanted to help others."

"You wanted to defend the helpless and the vulnerable... because you knew what it was like to feel weak and pathetic. You wanted to be a symbol of strength for them, the strength that you yourself never knew you had. Besides," Megavolt smiled faintly, "what would Gosalyn have ever done without Darkwing Duck in her life?"

Darkwing looked at him in sheer surprise. " Elmo... you_ do_ understand."

"I- I guess I do. I only wish that I could have seen my own increased potential, instead of wasting my whole life... wasting these powers."

"Elmo, don't you see? It's not too late! Just like you only recently helped me realize that the line between good and evil is not as black-and-white as it seems, the exact same can be said about our so-called destiny! Is our future really written in stone? Maybe things do occur for a reason, but we have the final say! It's all about freedom of choice!"

The prongs on Megavolt's helmet began to spark, and he suddenly leapt to his feet and glared at Darkwing. "Then why couldn't I save my parents? Why did I selfishly betray Eleanor?" he shouted. "Accident or not, those were still due to _choices _that I made, weren't they? And even if by some insane miracle, her path and mine do ever happen to cross again, I can still never bring my parents back! I still failed everybody I ever cared about- who ever cared about me! If they could see what I've become..."

"Mistakes happen! Accidents happen! Most of the time, we don't even know why or how anything turns out the way it does, be it inevitable or sheer happenstance! Yes, the past can hurt! But we can either spend the rest of our lives running from it, or face up to it! That's the point!" Now, it was Darkwing's turn to be in the rodent's face.

Megavolt looked startled at the duck's abruptness, but his face softened. "I think I get you, Drake. Still..." He looked down. "It's not going to be easy. I still have a lot to figure about. But, maybe..." A ray of hope crossed his face.

"Remember, your will's only as limited as you choose, Elmo."

"Maybe... I could try defying gravity again. The only one who can really ground me is myself; I've learned that now, if I've learned anything."

* * *

In years to come, he would never fully recover from the amazement at his own daring. It was one of the most intense decisions he had ever made, and it took a great deal for him to work up to it. In the end, though, he had to remind himself- if he was so willing to throw himself off Audubon Bay Bridge before, then surely he had the courage for this.

Although he had initially considered it, on several occasions, he had decided against phoning. He knew that would have been much harder, though he didn't quite know why.

He glanced down at the listing he had torn from the phone-book. He dearly hoped this was the place. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he rang the doorbell; even now, he wasn't sure if this was not a mistake. But he had to try.

A woman in her early-thirties, a rat like him, answered. She stared at the stranger curiously, if not a tad suspiciously. "Yes? Can I help you?" she frowned.

His breath seemed caught in his throat. He could only stare at her, silently speaking to her, pleading, his eyes brimming with emotion.

As she carefully observed the man, who wore blue slacks, a yellow button-down T-shirt, and a navy-blue tie decorated with a yellow zig-zag pattern, her eyes suddenly widened. She felt as though she had gotten hit in the chest by lightning.

"_Elmo_?"


	9. Elmo and Eleanor

A/N: Eleanor belongs to Merani, and is being borrowed with her kind permission. I actually worked closely with her on this chapter, so I could get Eleanor's reaction as accurate as possible. I really hope I did her justice; I am a bit nervous about that.

* * *

_"Elmo_?" The woman gasped, looking distinctly faint.

Elmo nodded. "It's me, Eleanor," he said quietly. He wasn't entirely sure how to read her face. There was shock, to be sure, but was there also fear he saw? He certainly couldn't blame her, he thought with burning shame, not after their last encounter. Nor would he hold it against her if she held nothing but hate toward him; he certainly expected her to.

He realized, as they stood staring at each-other, that he had no idea what to say to her. What could he possibly say? Where could he start? What was he even doing here? Did he honestly expect to pop back into her life after fifteen years, have her forgive him, and everything would be hunky-dory between them again? How could he ever make her understand?

He lowered his gaze, the guilt consuming his heart like acid. He knew he had no right to even look her in the eye.

"What are you doing here?" The inevitable demand was formed in a hoarse breath, thick with a combination of emotion.

"I-" Elmo's own voice severely cracked as he tried to gather his thoughts together. He found himself suddenly trembling, his chest tight. His entire face felt hot. A gulp escaped him, and he tried again. "I- Eleanor..."

He still could not meet her eyes, as he blinked away tears which barely registered. He despised himself for being such a coward, especially now that he was faced with the ultimate test- a choice that he, alone, had made- but his limited supply of courage was failing him with every second. If he ran, he would never forgive himself. But what did it matter, anyway? He would never forgive himself for having turned his back on her the first time, and she probably wouldn't either.

He had just begun to turn away, when he received an enormous surprise; however he may have been expecting Eleanor to react, finding himself in her arms was dead-last on his list on possibilities.

"Oh, my gosh. Oh, my gosh," she wept, holding him fiercely as though determined never to let him go. "I c-can't... _Elmo_... after all this time..."

She sighed deeply against his chest, her breath coming out disoriented. "You don't know how much I've dreamed of this moment. Even now, I'm not entirely sure this isn't a dream. This is... I don't know what this is! I almost don't care! I'm just..." She broke off, lapsing into uncontrollable sobs once more.

"Oh, Eleanor..." Elmo found he could no longer keep his own emotions in check; breaking down along with her, he dared to return the gesture. Much to his great surprise, again, she did not repel him.

* * *

"Are they after you?" Eleanor asked him, joining him on the sofa, where she had invited him to sit.

"Who?"

"The police. Darkwing Duck."

Elmo shook his head. "No. I'm not being pursued." He looked at her earnestly. "Eleanor, even if I was- please believe me, I would never get you involved."

"Your word, Elmo, is not what it once was- as I'm sure you can understand." Eleanor's voice was pure frost. "How can I be sure you wouldn't use me as a hostage?"

Elmo stared at her, wide-eyed, feeling as though he had been slapped hard. And from the second the words escaped Eleanor, it became plain from her expression that she deeply regretted them.

"Oh, Elmo," she whispered, looking down at her lap. "I'm so sorry. I don't know why I- I mean, I know in my heart that you would never-"

"No, Eleanor," Elmo said adamantly, looking her square in the eye. "I deserved that, and far more. You have every right not to trust me; I don't expect you to. And you're more right than you know that I would never do that to you, hurt you in _any_ way." He took a deep breath. "At least... not now. But I have to be honest, Eleanor- because that's why I came at all; not to beg your forgiveness, which I know I am far from deserving, but to tell you the truth about _everything_. Even though, as you said, you have no reason to listen to anything I say. But Eleanor, as Benjamin Franklin and 'Honest Abe' as my witnesses, I swear that everything that I have to tell you is the truth. It's the very least I owe you."

"What _did_ happen back then, Elmo?" Eleanor softly demanded. "Where did Megavolt come from? That's all I really want to know. All these years, I've lied awake at night, plagued with what could have possibly gone wrong... not only how you got your powers in the first place, but what truly made you-" She uncomfortably trailed off.

"Go crazy?" Elmo finished gently. She nodded. "Eleanor, there is no need to spare my feelings, I assure you. I _did_ become insane, in the most literal sense of the word, and I've only grown more unstable over the years. I still _am_; I know I will never be completely normal or whole again, no matter what. It's impossible. Too much damage has been done, both emotionally and physically. My brain has been so fried with electricity that, up until very recently, I have lost nearly all my memories. Half the time, it was a terrible struggle to remember one day to the next, including even the simplest of names, dates, and events... let alone my entire life before becoming a villain. Including... including you." He turned away in self-disgust and shame. "If our paths had ever crossed before now, I would not have even recognized you," he said, unable to hold back his tears. "There might have been a spark of familiarity, but not much more. Under certain circumstances, I probably would have-" A potent shudder rolled off his back, and he seemed to temporarily choke. "Knowing what I know now, do you have any idea what the notion does to me?"

"Elmo," Eleanor said, her voice distinctly cool and level, but underlined with warm compassion, "tell me everything. Start at the very beginning."

So Elmo told her everything, not omitting a single detail, right up to everything that had happened since the night of their high-school reunion. He talked for a full hour, with her listening intently all the while (she occasionally interrupted only to express her genuine feelings of horror, sadness, and empathy, such as the tragic accident that resulted in the loss of his parents).

When he finished, neither of them spoke for a long time.

But then, for the second time that evening, Elmo found himself in the arms of his former best friend.

"Elmo, listen to me," she murmured. "You hurt me bad. You left me at a time when I needed you the most in my life, when I was just beginning to feel happy and hopeful again... because you had constantly been there for me; you gave me all the friendship, kindness, and support of your heart, and so much more. You encouraged me during my darkest hours. I don't know how I could've handled everything that was going on then, without you at all; you can't imagine how utterly alone and frightened I felt without you."

She continued in bittersweet reminisce, "When you surprised me by asking me to the Prom, I couldn't remember feeling happier. You don't know how much I was looking forward to being there with you, to sharing what's supposed to be the most special night of a young woman's life. Even then, though we were mostly friends- _best_ friends- I knew there was something more between us, something strong; I knew that you knew, too. The last time we were ever together, like how we always used to be, was the last day of finals... one week before Prom and Graduation. After our very last exam, you told me that you were going down to the science lab to work on your experiment. That damned experiment that ultimately ruined you, nearly _killed_ you..."

"Believe me, I almost wish I had've just died when I got zapped," Elmo growled. "By all rights, I should've; what happened to me doesn't even make an ounce of sense, scientifically... except for the fact that it sizzled out significant portions of my brain, particularly those which governed logic and reason. At the very least, I should've been rendered a vegetable." He sighed. "My essential personality was gone, but I still retained my intelligence. That level of I.Q. in a super-charged, criminally-insane guy like myself only made me all the more dangerous."

Eleanor gazed at him sadly, before continuing. "I remember wanting to see your experiment. You had mentioned it often before, and although you were disappointed that all your previous attempts had failed, you just refused to give up. Despite what everybody else thought, even the others in the Science Club, the two of us alone were determined that static electricity _could_ power light!"

"I remember. You were always quick to come to my defence when others laughed at my theory. You were always so encouraging of me. It was your own excitement and enthusiasm that inspired me to keep at it, at all," Elmo smiled.

"I remember feeling disappointed, and a little hurt, when you refused to let me come with you. But I understood why, even if I thought you were being a tad overprotective. You didn't want me around, in case anything went wrong..."

"And sure enough, it did. Oh, Eleanor... if there's one regret I don't carry from that afternoon, it's that you weren't around when all hell broke loose. If the explosion from the treadmill wouldn't have injured you, then being anywhere near me when I got electrocuted surely would have!"

Eleanor held him tighter, and he found himself relaxing at her warm embrace. "All that week, I didn't see you or hear from you. I wanted to find out what happened with the experiment. But every time I called, your parents told me you were busy. I could hear the distinct worry in their tone, though, and began to suspect that something was not right. And on Prom night, when you didn't even pick me up at my place, I called again. I let the phone ring for several minutes, but no answer. So, I went over to your place, but there was still no answer."

"Now you know why," Elmo whispered. He exhaled shakily, and buried his face into his hands. "I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am, Eleanor, for everything. You can't imagine how much I wish I could turn back the hands of time, and make everything right for me and everybody I ever loved."

"Elmo," Eleanor said softly, tearfully. "Do you know what really hurt me, even more than feeling like you betrayed me for a life of evil? That you betrayed _yourself._ Above everything you've ever done, that's still the worst of it. And that's the sole reason your parents would have been ashamed. You hurt yourself, above all. Elmo, you always were such a strong-willed person with so much goodness inside, despite how you used to think you were so weak and pathetic. I always admired and respected you for who you really were. You didn't have to become something you weren't. You didn't have to prove yourself to anybody, not like that. You didn't even _try_ to fight it. And I _know_ you could have overcome it, if you had truly wanted to. I _believed_ in you, damnit, and I know your parents did too! But because you never believed in yourself, you never believed in us."

Elmo could not respond.

"All these years, I felt like I had failed you too. I blamed myself almost as much as you, because it seemed obvious that even the strength of our friendship- my own love for you- was not enough to save you."

"_That's a lie_!" Elmo shouted, jerking his head up so suddenly that Eleanor started. He glared at her. "How dare you blame yourself, hurt yourself further, because of my own terrible mistakes? You tried so hard to persuade me not to go through with my fiendish agenda, but I was just too far-gone by then." A vehement exclamation flew from his lips, and he forced his trembling hands into tight balls in his lap. "And you know what also kills me? _That I tried to convince you to go with me_! I was all set to corrupt my life, but that wasn't good enough; I wanted to drag you to hell with me!" His voice leaked with venomous disgust.

Eleanor looked at him. "For a moment then, Elmo- a very brief moment- I seriously considered it," she confessed. "Not out of a desire for revenge, but simply because I couldn't stand the thought of being separated from you. I needed you that much."

"I know... all too well, believe me."

A loud, wild laugh of irony, carrying the sharp edge of a sob, suddenly escaped him. "You were willing to risk your life to stop me from committing murder and mass-destruction, and you were willing to throw your own life away just to stay by my side. Guess I didn't exactly prove worth it, huh?"

Her hand seemed to come out of virtually nowhere. A single blink later, followed by the sharp, resonating _crack_ that filled the room like gunfire, and a stunned Elmo was lying on the opposite end of the couch with a hand to his tender cheek. She glared at him through eyes narrowed into fiery slits, nostrils flaring, as she inhaled deeply.

"Thank you," Elmo mumbled, immense shame filling his features.

"Let me tell you something. My opinion of you _has - not - changed_! Because I always knew that, deep down, you were still the same Elmo Sputterspark I once knew and loved... that you were still my friend. And tonight, years of waiting has finally paid off! Look at you now, look at how far you've come in only a few days! I know it was anything but easy, but _you did it_; you fought and struggled, you finally worked up the courage to face your demons head-on, and you've made it! Don't you understand? _You're free_!"

Sighing, she reached for his hand and gently grasped it. "I know what it's like to be burdened with sickening guilt and regret; as you may remember, I've had my fair share of it too. But you don't have to go it alone, Elmo. _I forgive you_, whether you like it or not. Now it's my turn to be here for you. I'll help you, if you'll just let me. Please, Elmo..." she pleaded ardently.

As Elmo absorbed Eleanor's words, he cast his mind back to when he was a very young child, retrieving his most treasured memory from that time. He was four years old, and his mother sang to him his special lullaby while his father lovingly watched, just as they did every night since he was first born:

_You have heart_

_And soul enough_

_You need them both_

_When life is rough_

_But nothing works_

_Without love,_

_So let love guide your way_

_You are free_

_To go and be_

_Whatever you may want to be_

_But when the night surrounds you,_

_Remember what I say:_

_Love is the light inside your heart_

_When you stumble in the dark_

_If you're lonely, let love shine_

_There's no deceiving_

_You'll find out_

_It's all believing_

_Love is the light inside your heart_

_It won't let life fall apart_

_So, keep on shining your light everyday_

_And in this turning world_

_When I see you again,_

_I hope you'll still know_

_What makes the heart glow_

_Love is the light inside your heart_

_Where your freedom has to start_

_And wherever you may be,_

_Feeling this light of love_

_Will set you free_

_Oh, look for the light,_

_Still shinning bright_

_Oh, love is the light_

_Inside your heart_

Elmo wrapped his arms around Eleanor, and began to weep gently. This time, his tears were those of pure hope and relief.

* * *

"Ah. Greetin's, High Command. And how may I be of service to youse this fine evening?" the Fiendish Organization of World Larceny's top agent acknowledged the silhouetted trio upon the view-screen.

"Greetings, Agent Steelbeak. How is progress coming on F.O.W.L.'s newest and greatest project?" his leaders inquired.

"Just peachy," the rooster replied, grinning. "We're putting the final touches on it now. It should be fully ready to meet our insidious objectives, and then some, in a day or two.

"Excellent; you are ahead of schedule."

"With all due respect, sirs, I couldn't help but wonder just how youse was planning on powering that baby. Surely it would take a source of nearly infinite energy, and I am kinda having my misgivings that not even we possess anything of that degree."

"Too true. But fear not; we think we have located the ultimate power source."

Stealbeak looked highly intrigued. "As if I ever doubted the foresight and ingenuity of my laudable leaders. Do tell, fellas."

A profile of a familiar-looking duck appeared on screen. "This fellow holds the key to the power we seek. First, you must find him."

Steelbeak looked startled. "Hey, whoa, hold the phone! Ain't that Darkwing?" He frowned, studying the image with greater care. "Only..."

"True, he does resemble our narcissistic nemesis greatly. But, quite obviously, this is not Darkwing Duck. This is his sadistic look-alike, known as Negaduck. He is the leader of the Fearsome Five, a group of St. Canard's most infamous super-villains." A profile of each member appeared on-screen. "It is within this group that you will find our source of power."

Stealbeak chuckled darkly. "Well, I'm sure this Negaduck character will be willing to loan me one of his pals in exchange for putting Darkwing out of commission permanently."

"Unfortunately," High Command replied, "according to our updated files, there is a minor technicality. That is where Negaduck comes in..."

* * *

A/N: Bet you weren't expecting FO.W.L. to play a role in this thing, were you? Well, this was part of my plan all along! Muahahaha!

By the way, guys, it's really hard to know if anybody's still reading this, unless you drop me a review...


	10. As Long As You're Mine

"I don't think I saw you at the reunion," Elmo mentioned, a tad awkwardly, in an attempt to make light conversation. He and Eleanor sat in the living-room, together on the couch, with coffee that she had recently brewed for the both of them.  
He realized, too late, that it was the wrong thing to say; and not only judging from her expression. Cursing himself inwardly, he fell silent and let his eyes droop to the cup in his hands.  
"I didn't go." Eleanor's voice was cold, flat.  
"Well... that was just as well, anyway," Elmo mumbled, stating the obvious. He released a sigh, and for several minutes nothing more passed between them. The only sound to break the dense interval was the occasional sipping.  
"Eleanor, if I may ask," the male rat carefully spoke up again, as he glanced over at her, "what have you been up to all this time?" _Aside from living a life of loneliness and worry_, he thought to himself sadly. He smiled weakly. "I'd love to know all about you, you know, catch up."  
Eleanor simply nodded, before picking up her cup and taking a particularly long drink.  
"Well," she said at last, her gaze distant and seeming to shift inwardly, "I'm a lawyer."  
Elmo blinked in momentary surprise, then beamed. "Really? That's great! Toward the end of Senior Year, I remember you mentioning that it might really be something you'd like to consider."  
"Yeah," Eleanor quietly replied with a flicker of a smile. She continued, "I moved to Duckburg, where I studied law for five years at Goosenheimer University- a very elite business school, largely funded by McDuck Enterprises. Not long after, I pursued my PhD, so I am formally known as Dr. Eleanor Johansson."  
Elmo offered her a warm smile. "That's really swell, Eleanor. Congratulations!" He chuckled lightly. "But I always knew you'd make good, with your brilliance and aptitude, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised."  
"Well..." Eleanor glanced down, blushing. "It's quite a rewarding career. I specialized in children's rights and family law, and was the district attorney of St. Canard for a short time..." From her abruptly changed expression and tone, Elmo detected something more behind the latter half of the sentence, but respect and common sense prevailed over curiosity. "I cooperate regularly with the Criminal Investigation Department too, so I'm usually pretty busy," she shrugged modestly.  
If the former villain felt at all embarrassed or awkward about the irony involved in any of this, he never displayed the slightest indication. On the contrary, he observed her with nothing but distinct pride and admiration.  
Suddenly, Elmo noticed tears gathering in the corners of Eleanor's eyes. "Eleanor? Are you all right?"  
Eleanor glanced in his direction and made as though to respond, but found herself overcome by a sob that had formed at the back of her throat. She began to weep.  
"Eleanor! What is it?" Elmo softly exclaimed.  
"Never mind, Elmo," she whispered. "It'll pass."  
Elmo looked sadly upon her. "Oh, Eleanor. How it hurts me to witness you suffer so; it always did. Please don't take it as a slap in the face from the likes of me, but a beautiful person like you doesn't deserve to be unhappy. You have always deserved nothing but true happiness and love." His heart broke with guilt and longing as his fingers fervently itched to provide greater comfort and affection.  
"It's just... as much as I truly do get out of this job," Eleanor was saying, "I sometimes can't help but think back to what actually provided that initial spark of inspiration. If things at home would've been different back then, I might never have taken this path. I'm not saying I would never have amounted to anything else, not at all, but it's just funny how things work out... you know?"  
"If anybody does," Elmo murmured, thinking of his recent conversation with Darkwing.  
He looked at Eleanor, drinking in the emotion of her own dark-green eyes. "But you don't still blame yourself for..." He trailed off uncertainly.  
Eleanor took her time answering. "I- not so much anymore, I guess, not really. But I still-" She shook her head, sighing.  
Elmo nodded in empathy. "It's no easy task to suppress so much pain and loneliness, I know. But you know something, Eleanor? Maybe I'm stating the obvious here, but your parents would be so very proud of you, the both of them. I have no doubt, whatsoever, of that. As I still hope to learn for myself in time, it's one thing to let the past haunt you, but it's another to have it suffocate you entirely. We can be so much more than our inner demons would dictate otherwise, and you're proof of that!" he said earnestly.  
"And that goes for you too, Elmo," Eleanor warmly reminded him, sniffling.  
The pair sat in silence for another moment or two.  
"Can I ask you something?" Eleanor suddenly spoke up. Her voice carried an insecure timbre that did not go unnoticed by Elmo.  
"Of course, Eleanor. Anything," he replied gently, raising a curious eyebrow.  
A tinge of crimson snuck across her cheeks. "I was just wondering... about your- your powers."  
"Oh?" Elmo quietly cleared his throat. "What about them?"  
"Well, you told me that you've absorbed so much electricity that it's become a permanent part of you, that it flows all through your very veins..."  
Elmo nodded. "That's true. It's just as much my life-source as my blood," he said with matter-of-fact reluctance, shrugging.  
"Yes, so... what happens if you lose any of your electricity?"  
Elmo smiled kindly. "Look, Eleanor. I appreciate your attempt at being tactful, but you're honestly not offending me. It's true that I deeply regret having these powers now," he added, with a soft sigh, "but, since nearly the very beginning, I have learned to accept it... and still do, because I know I have no choice. It's just become what I am, and will be until the day I die, villain or not. I totally understand your curiosity... because, well, let's face it; I _am_ a curiosity." He chuckled somewhat uneasily. "Anyway, that is a good question. You see, while my body still functions just like anybody else's, the addition of electricity does rather complicate things. Most people who know me just assume that my constant need is nothing more than an addiction, but it's actually far more than that. As you may have already surmised, it is a crucial source of energy for me, as much so as food and rest. My system has long since gotten so adapted to it that not only can't I function without, I can't live without it... period. As Megavolt, I would utilize my ability on a regular basis, naturally. The interesting thing is, although I contain a nearly unlimited amount of power, there is a limit as to how much I can actually output at a time. That's why I have to recharge continuously, and I always wore my battery to help monitor just how much I had on hand."  
"So, whenever you bathe or shower..."  
"Right. Whenever I come into contact with any water, especially the greater the amount, I short out. It sure is painful when I blow a fuse, though. I've been shorted out more times than I can count, and I'm still not used to the feeling! As for washing, well, that's just something that can't be avoided; otherwise, I go out of my way to avoid contact with the stuff if I can help it." He chuckled in embarrassment. "I remember, way back during the younger days of my criminal career, I actually went a whole week without showering. Let's just say that my stubbornness worked against me in one major area- while the citizens ran from me more than usual, and even Darkwing wanted nothing to do with me, I just couldn't stand the stench anymore."  
Eleanor couldn't help but release a giggle, before her demeanour quickly returned to concerned sombreness. "But how exactly do you know this? You sound as if you speak from-"  
"Personal experience?" Elmo finished. "Yes. That's because I do."  
In response to Eleanor's look of horror, he explained, "One night, about a year or so after I became Megavolt, I had one of my regular encounters with my former arch-nemesis. He defeated me by shorting me out, and strongly advised the prison personnel that I always be drained of my power in future, for security and safety's sake. So, it went on my record, and that's how it was from then on. But it was only then that I learned for myself just how used to a regular flow of electricity my poor body had become, even that early on. Before then, whenever I'd run low, I would simply-" He hesitated, casting a look of apology at Eleanor. "-Electrocute myself, as a means of recharging. It hurt, but I was always able to survive it, since that very first shock to my system- you know, the one that started it all- somehow created in me a permanent immunity. Way back then, I treated it as no more than a desperate addiction myself. But during that particular time in jail, I had become so weak that I nearly died. As the days wore on without my necessary fix, I only became weaker and weaker. My body gradually shut down, and eventually I nearly lapsed into a coma. At first the guards thought I was just playing possum, but after awhile, they began to realize that something really was wrong. I begged them, with what little energy I had left, to put me into the electric chair. They didn't understand, and I was unable to properly explain the irony behind my urgent request; they thought I was just utterly delirious. At the last minute, they humoured me though. They didn't realize what a mistake they were making, and so I managed to escape, fully charged." There was not an ounce of pride in Elmo's voice as he spoke. He continued, "I convinced them to put me in the Chair the very next time, too. Even though I was genuinely suffering, I promised them that I would not escape that time, but naturally I still had no intention of keeping my word. But those guards... I dunno, I think they were just too soft-hearted for their own good. Honestly, looking back now, I seriously hope they got fired for such inexcusable irresponsibility."  
"You- you had no choice. You would have died," Eleanor's voice was terribly strained, her eyes momentarily trailing down to her lap.  
"Yes," Elmo simply replied to the latter statement, his features void of emotion. He cleared his throat. "Well, not long after that, I learned that I could simply re-charge by absorbing whatever sources of power were nearby, like lighting fixtures, appliances, or any electrical devices. So, yeah- that solved that problem," he shrugged.  
He exhaled softly, his fingers stiffly flexing in his lap where he maintained his gaze. "I'm just full of surprises, aren't I?" he muttered bitterly.  
"I'm not disturbed," Eleanor said levelly, facing him directly. "And I don't fear you, Elmo Sputterspark."  
Elmo smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, Eleanor, but... well, which of us are you really trying to convince here?"  
Eleanor briefly cast him a look which Elmo interpreted as either sympathy or apology, before taking a long drink of her coffee.  
Elmo suddenly stood up. "I should go. It's late."  
"Where are you going?" Eleanor frowned with a trace of alarm, as she rose to her feet also.  
"Home."  
"Where's that?"  
"The lighthouse on Beaker's Point. Actually, it's only one of two hideouts I keep. There's also this apartment on the bad side of town I would stay at- although I mostly used that old place to work on my experiments, and store my collection of luminaries and appliances."  
"When will I see you again?"  
The demand seemed to catch him off-guard; blinking, he could only stare at her. He opened his mouth to respond, then closed it with a deep sigh, and turned away from her.  
"Elmo? I will see you again, won't I?"  
A long pause fell between them, which contained more suspense and bittersweetness than tension. At last, Elmo slowly proceeded to face her again, and a warm, genuine, reassuring smile had broken across his features. "I swear to you, Eleanor," he replied resolutely. "This isn't goodbye. Never again." He reached out a hand to touch her, but then hesitated at the last moment.  
"It's all right, Elmo," Eleanor said softly. "I want you to. Please."  
Elmo closed his eyes. "Understand, Eleanor," he said, "if I've seemed distant toward you all this while, it's only because-"  
"I know, Elmo. Believe me, I _do_ understand. And I know it's the hardest thing in the world, but you've got to put it behind you once-and-for-all. For everybody's sake- you, me, your parents. Elmo, I want to trust you so badly, it hurts! But you don't give yourself near enough credit, and so, despite your best intentions, you underestimate your own love. _Please_, Elmo, help me to help you trust yourself; just cast off fear and doubt, and make that first gesture..."

* * *

As the earliest hours of the morning approached, Elmo and Eleanor lay together upon the rooftop of the lighthouse. Neither of them had said much to each-other for the longest time, contenting themselves with more significant, non-traditional means of communication.

_Kiss me too fiercely,  
Hold me too tight  
I need help believing  
You're with me tonight  
My wildest dreamings  
Could not foresee  
Lying beside you  
With you wanting me  
And just for this moment,  
As long as you're mine,  
I've lost all resistance  
And crossed some borderline  
And if it turns out  
It's over too fast,  
I'll make every last moment last  
As long as you're mine..._

_Maybe I'm brainless,_  
_Maybe I'm wise,_  
_But you've got me seeing_  
_Through different eyes_  
_Somehow, I've fallen_  
_Under your spell_  
_And, somehow,_  
_I'm feeling_  
_It's up that I fell_

_Every moment,_  
_As long as you're mine,_  
_I'll wake up my body_  
_And make up for lost time_  
_Say there's no future_  
_For us as a pair-_  
_Although I may know,_  
_I don't care!_

_Just for this moment,_  
_As long as you're mine,_  
_Come be how you want to_  
_And see how bright we shine_  
_Borrow the moonlight_  
_Until it is through,_  
_And know I'll be here_  
_Holding you_  
_As long as you're mine_

"Thank you," Eleanor gasped, lying against his chest. The soft rhythm of his beating heart only served as an additional source of comfort and hope. "Thank you."  
Elmo kissed her deeply. "Thank _you_," he tenderly repeated with emphasis, "for everything, my love. Everything. Including my life."

* * *

Negaduck was under the distinct impression that he was being followed.  
It wasn't as though he had keen crime-fighter instincts, like his goody-goody twin... more like a general sense of suspicion and loathing for the world that invoked in him an innate thirst to always come out on top, to avoid being caught off-guard, rendered weak or vulnerable.  
The Malevolent Masked Mallard paused in his steps. "I know you're there," he slowly said in a low, menacing tone, "and I feel it only fair to warn you..." He whipped around, chainsaw at the ready, hissing, "Nobody gets the drop on Negaduck! So, unless you have a death wish, I suggest you show yourself. Now."  
The tall figure stepped out from under the shadows cloaking the alleyway. "A chainsaw? Rather amateurish for somebody in my line of work, friend. But then, we believe that the high-tech way is always the simplest, yet most effectual way... also less clean-up afterward, if ya get me."  
Negaduck could see him properly now as the spotlight of the streetlamp fell elegantly on him- a rooster wearing a smart white tux that practically slapped one in the face and screamed 'suave', with a slick, perfectly-combed comb to top it off. His most prominent feature, however, was his beak comprised entirely of steal.  
"You... look familiar," Negaduck stated, only slightly lowering his weapon.  
"Well, shucks; you know, I'm speechless here," the rooster said sarcastically, shrugging. "But enough with the pleasantries, huh? Let's get down to business." He cleared his throat. "First of all, are you the one known as Negaduck? Leader of the criminal posse known as the Fearsome Five?"  
"Who wants to know?" Negaduck growled.  
"I do, or more specifically, F.O.W.L. do," came the smooth reply.  
Negaduck frowned. "F.O.W.L... the Fiendish Organization of World Larceny. Now, I recognize you- Steelbeak, isn't it?  
"Is anybody else so charming?" Steelbeak grinned.  
"So, what do you want with me?" demanded Negaduck.  
"On behalf of F.O.W.L., I have a proposition for you." Here, Steelbeak presented a briefcase. "Attached to which is a little incentive of the green-type, of course."  
The case opened, and Negaduck's eyes practically sprang from his skull. "Little, huh?" he salivated.  
"And if that ain't enough," Steelbeak went on shrewdly, "perhaps I might add that this benefits package includes, in part, the assured suffering of Darkwing Duck... and then some."  
Negaduck thrust his hand into Steelbeak's. "Where do I sign, partner?" he exclaimed.  
"Marvellous. Now here's your part of the deal..."  
Steelbeak explained, and Negaduck cried, "What? What's that knob got to do with any of this? If you think he's getting a cut of the dough-"  
"Patience there, Negsy. I haven't explained everything yet. And I assure you, he has everything to do with this whole operation. But don't worry; let's just say that F.O.W.L. has marked him as, shall we say, expendable goods."  
"How interesting. I think I might just catch on."  
"A duck who is adept at thinking on his feet. I like that." He added, "I also understand that he is no longer with the Fearsome Five. That right?"  
Negaduck looked momentarily started, but hastily composed himself. "How do you know that?" he demanded.  
"Hey- it comes with being an evil spy organization, pally, what can I say?" Steelbeak shrugged. "Anyway, that's why we need your assistance. You were his boss, you woiked alongside him. You knew what made him tick, his M.O. So you would know, better than anybody, where to locate him."  
"True enough, but more to the point, I'm ten times more ruthless and underhanded than the rest of those losers could ever hope to be. But with Negaduck on the job, the money's as good as mine!"  
He shifted his eyes. "I mean- eh, screw it."


	11. Memories and Tenderness

A/N: I had forgot to mention that the lyrics to to the song 'As Long As You're Mine', which I used in the last chapter, are from the musical _Wicked_. I suggest you look it up on YouTube!

* * *

The mild rays of the hour lazily stretched in through the lighthouse's window, draping uneven patches across the dozing occupants of the bed.

Elmo was the first to stir. His eyes slowly flittered open, and he released a deep yawn. Sitting up, he stretched and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

The gentle sound of breathing caught his attention, and he glanced to the left of him where Eleanor lay sound asleep. It barely registered to him how astonishing it was that he actually remembered everything that had been said and done the night before; as he looked on her slumbering form, how restful and peaceful she appeared, he felt his heart beam with simple love for her. Without even giving the motion a second thought, he touched a hand to her cheek and stroked it gingerly. The active bulbs that served as bedposts, in direct competition with heaven's own spotlight, paid greater homage to her features.

"It's all right. I'm here," he whispered, the same feelings of warm relief and gratitude from last night flooding him again.

He glanced over at his clock, and saw that it was past ten. He decided against waking her, instead carefully sliding out of the green thunderbolt-patterned quit and slipping into his red bathrobe and light bulb-shaped slippers. Stealing a final glance at her, he headed towards his tiny bathroom.

As the spray of water hit him, Elmo's muscles instinctively tensed. He much preferred showers to baths, as they were much quicker; and whenever he prepared to shower, he would ease himself into it slowly so as to decrease the painful sensation of shorting out. Elmo sighed as he went through the mundane morning routine of scrubbing himself, barely aware of the motions. He was full of mixed thought and emotion- while mostly happy, a biting sense of uncertainty lingered at the back of his mind. Although, with her help and encouragement, he had risen above his selfless fear and passed the test with flying colors, would it really end well after all? Time-wise, what was past was past... and Elmo couldn't bear to labor under any regrets. It had truly been the greatest and most enlightening experience of his life, on so many levels, a mutual exchange of give-and-take that had seemed to cleanse both their long-suffering spirits. They had vowed to make the moment count for a lifetime, during which they were free and safe together, re-born, existing together only in their solitary world where nothing could come between them. But would she still see it that way? Had they done far more damage than good? Had the potential been crushed, spoiled by reckless impulse?

"I should have been more responsible," he muttered, turning off the water. He shook the bulk of the water from his fur, then reached for a towel. "I can't bear the thought of it ending all over again, just when we barely started anew. Now where do we go from here? I made a promise to her last night... but did this just make that promise irrelevant?"

He donned his bathrobe and slippers, and proceeded to pace around the lighthouse, desperately trying to force his fried brain to come to a conclusion. He rejected each means of approach as it came to him, feeling more flustered and confused by the minute. He even asked his luminaries for advice, but for the first time ever, there were no voices in his head which he would always associate with them...

...And that's when it hit him like a bolt of lightning.

"I really _am_ free."

"Elmo?"

Dropping the light bulb in his hand, he whirled around to see her standing there dressed. "Oh, Eleanor! Good morning," he said softly.

"Are you all right?" She seemed genuinely concerned, puzzled, but otherwise perfectly at ease. No tension leaked, as far as Elmo could tell.

"I- are _you_ ok?" Elmo blurted out, before he could stop himself. Once again, he found himself unable to meet her eyes.

Hurt and confusion touched her face, before instantly facing banishment for pure understanding. She crossed the room until she stood mere inches from where he was, emphasizing her presence with the intensity of her gaze until Elmo was at last compelled to surrender his resistance like a magnet.

"Do you want the truth, Elmo?" she asked quietly.

He nodded.

"Then here it is: There is nothing to regret. Did we move too fast? Maybe, but as I said last night, I don't care. I'm not afraid anymore- of anything. And you will never know how grateful I am to you for that. Finally, for the first time ever, I feel whole... fulfilled completely. Not only for my sake, but for yours just as much. You came back into my life, and gave both of us what we've always missed and needed; and in less than twenty-four hours, we've shown each-other that love really does survive. I believe in us, and I know there's nothing we can't overcome together. I promise _you_ this."

Elmo could only stare at her, truly at a loss for words. But when she kissed him deeply, he found that she spoke volumes for both of them.

"_With you and I defying gravity_..." she murmured, smiling.

"_Nothing will ever bring us down_," he breathed.

A slight spark emitted off the tips of his whiskers, and she giggled.

"Come back to my place. There's something I want to show you," she said. She suddenly looked stern. "But first..."

"Hmm?"

"You are going to re-charge, right?"

Elmo chuckled. "Honestly, I had completely forgot all about that. Ok, it won't take long. As much as I hate to do so, even temporarily, I'll need to change into my old outfit. It's designed specially for that, which is the only reason I didn't burn the damn thing altogether."

* * *

"This is... Eleanor, I... I don't know what to-" Elmo sat on Eleanor's couch, staring at the parchment he had just unfolded, as though it were a hallucination that might vanish at any moment.

Eleanor smiled. "When you didn't show up at Graduation, they had it sent out to you later. I knew this, so I made sure to take it for safekeeping."

"This should've been for my parents to keep," Elmo murmured, feeling the tears come to his eyes. He couldn't help but wonder; by the time Eleanor had collected his diploma from their mailbox, had the bodies of his parents already been discovered inside the house? Or were they still-

Eleanor seemed to know what he was thinking. "Oh, Elmo, please don't," she whispered, touching a hand to his shoulder. "You've suffered enough."

"Eleanor, I can't believe you held onto this all these years, especially after what I-" He looked at her earnestly, his face a bundle of emotion. "You really don't know what this means to me. I never dreamed I'd be holding this in my hands. I- how could I ever have deserved such a true friend as you?"

"By just being you, Elmo Sputterspark. Just as you've always been, even if you never realized it."

Elmo smiled, sniffling slightly. "You know, maybe I never went to college, but I'm sure I could still make a fine career for myself. It's not too late. Nobody would have to know my villainous identity. And more to the point, I'm- I'm more than brilliant enough! I just have to show the world what I'm capable of, let my genius speak for itself!" He leapt to his feet, letting his inspiration and excitement take control, as Eleanor stared at him with glowing admiration. "Because I _am _Elmo Sputterspark- super genius! I can change the world for the better, just like I always dreamed of! The sky's the limit, and beyond!" he cried out happily. For the first time, not a spark of electricity emitted forth in his state of high emotion.

Eleanor nodded, beaming. "I'm more proud of you than I can say, Elmo. And I know your parents are, too."

Elmo hugged her tight. "You know something else? I may not be able to rid myself of these powers, but that doesn't mean that I can't control them instead of vice-versa. For the sake of both our protection, I'm only going to use them under the direst of circumstances; at all other times, I'll suppress them entirely."

He sighed sadly. "Although, I kind of wish I didn't have to. I could do so much more with them. So many could benefit from my ability, in limitless ways. I don't know... I'm not doubting my own natural abilities and intelligence, but combined-" He was silent for a moment.

Eleanor said, "Elmo, you're going to have to decide for yourself. But whatever decision you'll make, I'll support it."

"I just... don't want anybody to ever know of my past. But whatever becomes of me, whatever I do, I do know that I'll never let anything tear us apart. I'll never hurt you, or anybody else, again."

Eleanor looked him. "Well," she said softly, smiling, "then that knowledge is mutual."

A restful pause followed, and suddenly Elmo grasped her hands, grinning. "Now, I have a surprise for you. Wait here." He stood up.

"Where are you going?" Eleanor asked, evidently intrigued.

Elmo shook a finger. "Up-bup-bup! Just stay right there, and no peeking. I'll be back in fifteen." He headed in the direction of her kitchen.

Eleanor stared after him, bemused.

Approximately fifteen minutes later, a wonderful and familiar smell reached her. Immediately, she was filled with an amazing rush of nostalgia. At last she stood up and turned towards the kitchen, just as Elmo returned.

"Right this way," he smiled knowingly.

Eleanor followed him, her excitement growing. He held the door for her, and she entered. As she did, an exclamation of surprise and delight escaped her.

"Oh, my gosh. Elmo, I don't believe this. You remembered!"

Two steaming plates of curry rice, generously littered with prawns, awaited her on the table. On either side of each plate was a fork and knife, perfectly lined beneath their respective napkin. Two glasses, waiting to be filled, stood by. To complete the inviting scene, a colorful tablecloth decorated with all the flowers of spring had been neatly arranged.

Elmo beamed at her response. "Yep. Mom's old recipe."

He went over to one end of the table, and gallantly pulled out a chair for her. Eleanor smiled, a tinge of crimson touching her cheeks, as she took her seat.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped my boundaries here, being your house and all," Elmo began, gently pushing her in, but was immediately cut off by Eleanor's protest.

"Now, Elmo, don't you dare spoil this moment with needless apology! It's perfect. Absolutely perfect," she breathed, clasping her hands together and taking it all in. "Oh, Elmo, thank you."

"My pleasure," came the warm reply. "Now, what will you have to drink?"

A moment later, their glasses had been topped up with cold, refreshing milk. As Elmo sat down beside her, she happily declared, "It tastes just like I remember- better, even!"

"I wasn't sure if you would actually recall this dish," Elmo said, scooping some onto his own fork. "I was hoping you would enjoy it, anyway. I'm glad you do. As for me, well- I remember everything now. Which reminds me, there's something very important I need to do after lunch."

* * *

When Drake Mallard stepped outside to mow his lawn that afternoon, he was very surprised to see an enormous fruit basket awaiting him.

He reached down and removed the attached card, having just noticed it. "_To you and yours_," he read aloud, "_Thank you. Sincerely, E.S._" Although concise, it spoke volumes, and Drake couldn't help but smile.

"Well, what do you know?"

Launchpad stepped outside. "Message from S.H.U.S.H, DW," he said. "J. Gander says it concerns something huge with F.O.W.L- hey, is that kiwi?"

Darkwing nodded. "Courtesy of an unexpected friend. Well, come on, Launchpad; I'll take the call in Darkwing Tower."

* * *

A/N: Come on, folks, I know you're out there! I can hear you breathing!


	12. Murphy's Law

'No One Mourns The Wicked' is from the kick-ass Broadway show, _Wicked_.

Eleanor belongs to Aaroni, and is being used with her kind permission. :)

Please drop me a review!

* * *

It did not come as a great surprise to Eleanor that Elmo had insisted on doing the dishes, after lunch. She knew him all too well. Nonetheless, she had insisted that it was only fair that she clean up since he had been the one to prepare their meal, but Elmo would not have it.

"All right, but I'll only let you have your way this one time," she had said, smiling.

"Over my dead battery!" came the teasing retort.

"Oh, really now? Perhaps you would care to make something of it?"

A devious glint suddenly appeared in Elmo's eyes. Without warning, he flicked a small amount of sudsy water in her direction.

"_Eeek_! Elmo, how dare you!" she exclaimed, laughing. "You're taking advantage of the fact that I wouldn't take advantage of your weakness!"

"Well, I _am_ a former villain; I guess cheating is still somewhat second-nature to me," Elmo replied, playfully sticking out his tongue.

Eleanor smirked back. "Indeed? Well, I say turnabout is fair play." And she lunged at him.

"He-hey! No fair, tickling!" Elmo yelped, dodging too late. "Darn it, how did you know my second weakness?"

Eleanor shrugged matter-of-factly. "Oh, lucky guess." She moved in to attack a second time, again catching him off-guard.

"AH! Ooooh, you got me there again!" Elmo cried, defensively holding both his sides and retreating backwards. "Seriously though, watch it. I'm getting close to dangerous territory here." He nodded towards the filled sink beside him.

Eleanor nodded. "Good point. Ok, truce."

"Truce." Elmo smiled nervously, and returned to the dishes. "Besides, I don't want to break anything."

But, as it happened, Eleanor's acute foresight had allowed her to correctly calculate both their following actions.

"Except for the truce, you mean?"

Elmo raised an eyebrow, impressed. "You're good! How did you-?"

Eleanor grinned. "Former villain, remember?"

The male rat frowned, his lips forming his lips into a mock-pout. "Aw, El, you're busting my bulbs. But, as such, I suppose I ought to be used to the cursed Law of Murphy."

He suddenly noticed that his dear friend's expression had significantly altered. "Eleanor? What is it?" he asked, his voice soft and full of loving concern.

"Well... it's nothing, really. It's actually kind of silly."

But Elmo's gaze told her that he was quite unwilling to drop the matter so easily, not when there was the slightest indication of something disturbing her. "When I was a little girl," she began, "my father gave me a Teddy bear. He said that his name was Murphy, named after Murphy's Law. He explained to me what that was, and I was confused as to why my new friend would be named for something so unfortunate. But then he said that his name was merely symbolic; whenever I'd feel alone or frightened, I would talk to him and hug him. And although he couldn't help me in the verbal sense, he would still listen. By that, he explained, he could help me break Murphy's Law."

She smiled a tad sheepishly. "At the time, it didn't make much sense to me. But I believed him because he was my _pappa_, and the most important person in my life. He was my greatest source of faith and encouragement. And it wasn't long until I realized that not only did his advice work, but what he had really meant..."

"He believed in you as much as you believed in him," Elmo gently finished for her, looking at her through eyes that communicated earnest understanding. "He always wanted you to be strong through life, to prepare you for whatever hardships you would inevitably face-" He looked at her soberly, almost apologetically. "-Especially when the time came that he was no longer around, and he knew you would be just fine by then."

Eleanor nodded. "All these years, a part of him has always lived on in my oldest friend. I never felt entirely alone, because of that. I'm not ashamed to say that, to this day, I still sleep with him whenever I'm particularly overcome with sadness."

Elmo thought of his own beloved parents, and of their old lullaby to him. He found himself pulling Eleanor into a deep hug.

"Elmo?" she asked, after some time had passed.

"Yes, Eleanor?"

"Can... can we spend the night together again? At your lighthouse?"

"No," he told her.

Smiling, he touched a hand to her face, which had been quick to register hurt. "Here."

Eleanor chuckled quietly, nodding. Seconds later, she touched his name to his ear again.

"Hmm?"

"I love you, Elmo Sputterspark. I always have, and I always will."

And Elmo found himself once more taking the initiative, and their lips formed an unyielding tryst, a wordless, mutual exchange of sentiments.

* * *

"You know," Elmo was saying to Eleanor, as they lay together in her bed, late in the evening, "I seem to recall, back in the day, you promising to teach me a bit of Swedish. And seeing as how neither of us are tired yet..." He smiled hopefully, almost reminiscent of a child .

"Oh? So I did!" Eleanor sat up, her share of the sheets delicately enveloping her bosom. She suddenly cast him a devious look. "Unless, of course, you'd rather..." One hand lightly swept across his chest, just shy of a nipple, and he gave off an involuntary shudder, feeling himself give off a spark or two. She laughed gently.

"Oh, well..." he blushed fiercely, gulping a little.

"Oh, Elmo. I'm sorry, but you are fun to tease," she smiled, ruffling the tuft of reddish-brown hair that decorated his head. "Granted, I have no experience at being a temptress, but..."

"No, you're fine!" he insisted. "Er... I mean-" He felt his face grow hotter still.

How lovable he was when he was so flustered and awkward! It made her both pity and adore him. She refrained from telling him so, however, lest it embarrass him further. Instead, she proceeded with his lessons... the Swedish lessons, that is.

To both their surprise and delight, he proved exceedingly adept at it throughout the following hour, grasping grammar and enunciation almost simultaneously. In fact, he kept up with her with such skill that she couldn't help her skeptism from surfacing. He insisted, though, that he had never spoke a word of Swedish in his life, and she had to believe him.

It was only until a yawn had escaped her did he call it quits for the night. "It's getting late. You need your rest," he said.

"I am getting a little tired," she admitted.

As she snuggled under the covers, she quietly said to him, "Elmo? Listen, I know it's out-of-the-blue, but there's something I've been meaning to get off my chest since we've been together again. Two things, actually. I've just never found the oppturnity yet..."

"What it is?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at the trepidation in her tone.

She sighed. "I know this is going to hurt the mood, but, well, you just have to know."

"Eleanor, you know you can tell me anything!" he insisted, a touch of alarm creeping into him. "Anything in the world, anytime at all. I want you to understand that, all right?"

Eleanor nodded silently, still not meeting his gaze. "Elmo, on the night of the Prom... I'm the one who had called the police on you."

She glanced up, only to meet a most curious expression on his face; it seemed to convey confusion, sympathy, with just a touch of bemusement. "I had left you to the path you had chosen. As I've said, I already felt that I had betrayed you by leaving you when you clearly needed me the most. But I knew I could never live with myself, all the more, if I did absolutely nothing. I did it not only to save St. Canard High, but to stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life. As soon as I left you, I rushed to the nearest payphone and dialled 9-1-1, praying that it wouldn't be too late. And, if you can believe it, a part of me felt... like I had betrayed you still," she murmured.

Elmo recalled that evening, after his very first encounter and defeat by Darkwing Duck. The police had arrived, shortly after, and took him away. During his first time ever in prison, all alone in his dark and cold cell, he had spent the remainder of the night openly weeping for the loss of all that had been taken from him all-at-once; his innocence, his parents, the only friend he ever had, and his chance to graduate, go to college, and make a real life for himself. But even though it had all hit home for the first time, his pain and grief overwhelming him to the point where he nearly suffered a nervous breakdown, he still knew deep down that it wasn't enough to bring his old self back. Elmo Sputterspark no longer had anything left to live for; it was all the better that Megavolt take his place forever. He was left with no choice anymore, or so he had thought.

Elmo looked at Eleanor, and gripped her hands. "Eleanor, don't. Please," he said sternly, his voice underlined with deep sympathy. "You and I both know you did the right thing. Between you and Darkwing, so many lives were saved that night. That is what was important- _period_. Back then, would I have thought you had betrayed me? Probably, but I was too far-gone to understand anything! Eleanor, I haven't been in my right mind for so long until only recently. I blame you for nothing, do you hear me? _Nothing_! You were, and are, all that I failed to be! Don't you _ever_ be so blind as to confuse your greatest strength for weakness! You know your father would tell you the same!"

Eleanor nodded. "I guess I do," she whispered, smiling. "Still... it's not always easy to distinguish the line between what's right and wrong; it's not always as back-and-white as all that, you know? As clichéd as it sounds, the only real way to find the answer is to trust our hearts... and if we err, then it's up to us to understand where we went wrong, and learn to benefit from what we've learned of our mistakes."

"Too true. And some of us learn far too late in life, but..." Elmo gently exhaled through his nose, his misshapen eyes vaguely scanning out into the darkness. "At least we may yet see, before it really is too late."

He quietly cleared his throat. "What else did you have on your mind?" he inquired.

Eleanor said, "A matter that may very well relate to this conversation. It's about those thugs who accosted that little girl, Gosalyn Mallard, last week." She added, as an afterthought, "You know, now that I think about it, I can't help but wonder if she's of any relation to Drake Mallard from high-school. You remember him?"

Elmo could not help but smile to himself, as though recalling a private joke, as he nodded. "Yup. Drake the Dweeb, as he was commonly dubbed. He was quite a character, wasn't he? Even I was never sure what to make of him, but I never really had a problem with him, although I did find him quite annoying at times. It was always a great relief whenever Hamm and everybody else would take a break from giving me a hard time, to tweak his beak. I think I actually tweaked his beak once in class... just because everybody was doing it, I guess," he chuckled. "But, sorry- go on."

"You told me that after encountering Darkwing Duck shortly following your rescue of her, he was made aware of the situation. Well, the next night, Darkwing showed up at the Old Haunt, where he found and captured those two- quite forcibly, I understand."

"Good! I hope he gave those creeps exactly what they deserve," Elmo growled, instinctively emitting a few sparks from his fingertips.

"Well, they were certainly willing to admit to the police what they had tried to do, anyway. And here's the thing, Elmo- I've been asked to represent them in court next month. And I... took the case."

A long, thick silence followed her words. Beside her, Eleanor was unable to properly see Elmo's face, and he became a statue-like silhouette against the veil of darkness. She could tell, however, that he was not looking at her.

"I knew I should have killed them when I had the chance," he muttered, his voice bubbling with sheer disgust, his voice sending deep shame plummeting into the pit of her stomach. "At least... that's what I told myself at the time. But I knew why I didn't, just as I was well aware of why I chose to pluck an innocent child from harm's way. And, well..." He sighed deeply. "I still stand by the choice I made then. For the first time in so long, I did take a good look inside myself."

He was looking at her now, and this time Eleanor could tell that he was smiling sadly. "With your help, Eleanor, others have a chance to do the same. Even though it's probably far from easy for either you or them."

Eleanor sighed, and wrapped her arms around him. "Oh, Elmo. I had hoped you would understand," she murmured.

"If anybody does, Eleanor."

"And that's the main reason I went into this field. Certain past events really inspired me; _Pappa_... you..." She shook her head. "Sometimes I truly question if I am doing the right thing, why I do what I do. But then I force myself to think far back, and I am reminded that I did made the right choice."

* * *

Midnight soon fell, and the majority of St. Canard's citizens slept on, temporarily relieved of the cares of the real world. Across the city, some slept soundly, while others suffered restlessness.

Among the number of the latter was Elmo.

* * *

_The verdict had at last been reached, the sentence called. Guilty. But this time, he was truly going to pay for his crimes. This time, it had been decided that he was too dangerous to exist in society. No prison could hold the crazed genius, and the traditional means of execution would be a joke in this case._

_It was decided that he be completely drained of every drop of electricity in his body- all at once, so as to prevent him from later siphoning energy back through any sources available. He would be rendered an empty husk, like any dead battery or lightbulb, fit to be disposed of in a manner befitting such worthless trash- hauled away to the dump, to be compacted and incinerated. There would be no recycling his sorry remains. _

_He had been dragged away immediately, during which his and Eleanor's eyes had locked for a seeming-eternal moment that seemed to disable time, space, and all else surrounding the two of them. She was visibly suffering, the very picture of guilt and grief. There were tears in his own eyes as he seemed to mentally convey that it wasn't her fault, that he loved her more than he could ever say in an entire lifetime._

_And then he was out of the courtroom, out of her sight, and out of her life forever._

_Once the sentence had been pronounced, the entire room had erupted into a torrent of cheers and whistles. They still rang on, though it existed to Eleanor- who was all but mentally and physically immobilized- as a mere buzzing in the background, like the heavy droning of a hypnotist's voice amidst the indefinite void. _

_"GOOD NEWS!_

_HE'S DEAD!_

_NOW MEGAVOLT IS DEAD!_

_THE MOST VILLAINOUS VILLAIN THERE EVER WAS,_

_THE ENEMY OF ALL OF US IN ST. CANARD,_

_IS DEAD!_

_GOOD NEWS!_

_GOOS NEWS!"_

_The rabble was interrupted by the pounding of the judge's mallet. "Quiet! Miss Johansson wishes to speak!"_

_He looked sternly on Eleanor. "Make it brief, Counsellor. Court has already been adjourned."_

_Breathing deeply through her nose, Eleanor forced herself to face the courtroom at large. They all stared coldly back, wondering what this reputed condoner of crime could possibly have to say. How much more pathetic could one get?_

_"Members of the court," she began, a strained smile pressing across her face,_

_"Let us be glad_

_Let us be grateful_

_Let us rejoice that goodness could subdue_

_The wicked workings of you-know-who_

_Isn't it nice to know_

_That good will conquer evil?_

_The truth we all believe will, by and by,_

_Outlive a lie_

_For you and-"_

_The rebellious rebuttal shot out from practically nowhere, like gunfire: "No one mourns the wicked!"_

_Another yelled out, "No one cries 'They won't return'!"_

_"No one lays a lily on their grave!"_

_"The good man scorns the wicked!"_

_"Through their lives, our children learn what we miss if we misbehave!"_

_Eleanor called out defiantly, "And goodness knows the wicked's lives are lonely!" She could hear scoffs and jeers, but continued. "Goodness knows the wicked die alone. It just shows when you're wicked, you're left only on your own..."_

_Everybody cried, the sneers evident in the air:_

_"Yes, goodness knows_

_The wicked's lives are lonely!_

_Goodness knows _

_The wicked die alone!_

_Nothing grows for the wicked_

_They reap only_

_What they've sown."_

_"Are people born wicked?" Eleanor challenged. "Or do they have wickedness thrust upon them? After all, he once had a loving mother, a loving father, dreams and hopes of his own... as so many do. And, like many young people of his intellectual calibre, he found himself alone and misunderstood. And, of course, from the moment Megavolt was born, Elmo Sputterspark became trapped within a dark and distorted world that had not been created of his own will!" She was unable to keep her voice cool and unwavering, as she added in almost a pleading tone, "So, you see, it couldn't have been easy."_

_"That will do, Miss Johansson," the judge flatly told her. "There is no need to take up this court's time any further. Good day!"_

_"No one mourns the wicked_

_Now, at last, he's dead and gone_

_Now, at last, there's relief throughout the city_

_And goodness knows_

_We know what goodness is!_

_Goodness knows_

_The wicked die alone."_

_"He didn't die alone!" Eleanor could not refrain from crying out, but nobody was listening anymore._

_"Woe to those who spurn what goodness is_

_They are shown_

_No one mourns the wicked!_

_No mourns the wicked!_

_Wicked..._

_Wicked..._

_Wicked..."_

* * *

Elmo screamed, as reality came crashing down upon him... in the form of a tidal wave. He felt the painful sensation of shorting out. "What-!" he yelped, fully awake, his senses wildly distorted.

"Are you confused? Out of sorts? Suffering from a mid-life crisis? Then let the Liquidator and friends provide you a free, one-way ticket to simpler times! Satisfaction guaranteed!"

"What's going on? What are you all doing here? How did you find me?" Elmo cried, furiously jumping to his feet at the sight of his former team-mates, who surrounded him smirking.

His gaze instantly fled to the bed, which the horrified rat found empty. "NO! Where is she? What did you DO TO HER?" he roared. He instinctively made to hurl a volley of voltage at them, before remembering that he literally had none at his fingertips. Fear and fury had already overwhelmed shock, the current two battling for prevalence; snarling fiercely, he lunged at them, but was deterred by an onslaught of the mad toymaker's trademark novelty teeth.

"Gee, if I didn't know any better," Quackerjack remarked sardonically, as he watched him attempt to fight off their jaws, "I'd say that our old pal, Megavolt, isn't too glad to see us. Now, isn't that just rude!"

"Talk about ingratitude, dude," he made Mr. Banana Brain say.

"Ok, Plan B, like Negaduck said!" Bushroot quickly said. Without seconds, their former partner-in-crime was firmly bound up in a mass of vines.

From his position on the floor, where he had toppled over, he glared up at them and repeated, "Where is she? I swear to God, if you've harmed her-"

Bushroot looked distinctly ill-at-ease. "Look, Megavolt, the thing is-"

"I AM NOT MEGAVOLT! It's OVER, do you get me? I won't be associated with that part of my life any longer!"

Bushroot cringed, wringing his leafy hands together. "Uh, yeah; see, we've kinda hoped you were just having an off day last week. Nobody wants this to be difficult, and we really don't want anybody to get hurt..."

"Aw, c'mon, Sparky!" Quackerjack said adamantly, pulling him up by the shoulders. "This isn't you! I know you don't believe that for one minute. Even with your Swiss cheese memory, you must be able to recount all the good times we had! And we're here to help you, pal! Face it, you've always been one of us."

He lowered his doll to Elmo's face. "Once a criminal, always a criminal."

"You... you don't know anything. At all," Elmo hissed, a pained squeak rising through to the surface. He shook fiercely through his bonds. "_Get. Out_."

The Liquidator smiled coolly. "Four out of five psychiatrists determine that denial is the root of most problems, with open hostility as a common link."

"I won't listen to anymore of this! ELEANOR!"

The vines expanded to wrap themselves over Elmo's mouth. "You know, you're probably only making this a lot harder for her too," Bushroot pointed out.

Suddenly, a pair of webbed feet appeared before Elmo's face. His level of terror nearly reached breaking point, as he found himself staring up at the Merciless Mallard himself.

Negaduck smirked down at him, with that typical gleam of twisted delight in his eyes. "Hail, hail. The gang's all here."

He delivered a sharp kick to Elmo's side, sending him sprawling down the hallway, just inches from the staircase. Another kick, and he was spiralling down.

The others joined their bruised friend at the bottom. "Liquidator! You know what to do," Negaduck commanded. The liquid-based canine nodded, and sloshed off.

He turned his attention back to Elmo, who was snarling muffled threats and curses up at him. "You led us on quite the goose chase, Megsy. You had us real worried. So, when we couldn't find you at any of the appliance and electronics stores in town, and you weren't even home, I turned to technology." He held up what appeared to be a type of hand-held gadget, which exhibited spiky yellow waves of data across its grid-screen. "This little baby is designed to track energy sources that are strictly bio-electrical. I merely adjusted its wavelength to the max, allowing it to pinpoint signals of particular intensity. And since there's only one in all of St. Canard that fits that bill to a T..."

Quackerjack turned to Bushroot. "I don't know why we didn't just use that in the first place."

"Shaddup!" Negaduck snapped, causing them both to start.

Liquidator had returned, with a very shaken Eleanor in tow. Elmo, although horrified, was relieved to see that she appeared physically safe. He struggled vainly, thrashing about on the floor like a trapped insect in a spider's web.

"Fear not, viewers" the Liquidator announced. "The little lady comes with a lifetime warranty, providing that the undersigned is willing to renew his contract."

"Otherwise," Negaduck added, "it'll be her that expires."

Bushroot turned to Quackerjack. "Isn't that what Liquidator said?" he shrugged.

But the pair fell silent again, at the distinct warning snarl of the chainsaw.

Elmo looked up into Eleanor's frightened, tear-filled eyes. Feeling his heart grow heavy as stone, before seeming to shatter and bleed profusely, he desperately communicated to her the same sentiments as in his dream.

He glanced up at Negaduck, closed his eyes, and nodded; that single gesture was the single hardest, and yet the easiest, instant of his entire life.

"No..." Eleanor mouthed, her voice dead in her throat. She felt violently sick. With a painful gasp, she managed to croak out his name, taking a step forward.

Elmo shook his head at her, indicating that it was useless, pleading with her to do nothing. Tears blurred his own vision at her distraught and helpless state, erasing her from him during the last time they would ever see each-other again; even his natural functions betrayed him.

Her sobs haunting him, as he knew they would to the end of his days, he was carried out over Negaduck's shoulder. The others followed.

"_Elmo_, hahaha!" Quackerjack chortled. "I'm sorry, Megs, but after you told us that was your actual name- you know, when you rudely ran out on us last week- I seriously thought my poor heart was going to give out; I normally don't even laugh that much when I'm high on the 'ol gas!"

"The Liquidator would never have guessed what a keen eye our electric friend has for merchandise of such high quality! Impeccable assets!" A sly look crept across his watery features. "Judging by their evident familiarity with one-another, she would undoubtedly come as a second-hand package."

"C'mon, you guys. No need to throw salt on his wounds. Can't you tell he's wilted enough?" muttered Bushroot, refusing to meet anybody's gaze, least of all Elmo's.

Outside, a sleek, silver convertible was waiting. "Took ya long enough, Negs. F.O.W.L. ain't paying you for overtime here," Steelbeak remarked, leaning against the car with his arms folded. He didn't appear in any particular hurry.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just glad you were smart enough to pay me in advance," Negaduck responded, tossing Elmo into the backseat.

"Well, you drive a hard bargain, babe. High Command wasn't exactly pleased, but they weren't ones to argue- not when they're gaining a weapon of such infinite measure."

Bushroot, Liquidator, and Quackerjack looked beyond puzzled. "Uh, Boss... what's going on?" the plant duck slowly inquired.

"You losers stay out of this!" Negaduck snarled at them, before turning to face the miserable Elmo. "So long, Mr. Reversed Polarity," he sneered at him.

The convertible's wheels began to seamlessly spread outward, their entire function seeming to convert. There was the smooth cadence of the engine powering up, reminiscent of a windchime's sounds produced on a synthesizer. "Like a kitten, huh?" Steelbeak called proudly from behind the wheel, as the vehicle rose from the ground.

"WHERE?" Negaduck whipped out a shotgun, and began firing in all directions. He looked fit to be tied, indeed... in a straightjacket.

"Yeesh. Quite the charmer, ain't ya? Well, it's been swell doing business wit' you; hate to run, but global panic and destruction waits for no man; we dance, we kiss, we schmooze, we carry on, we go home happy; yadda-yadda, wazzy-woo. Oh, but before I take my leave, I'll just take back F.O.W.L.'s property, if youse don't mind."

"I already gave you the knob!" Negaduck snapped. He paused, frowned, and dug around in his pocket. "Oh, right; this thing." He tossed the device to Steelbeak, who grinned and gave a two-finger salute, before jetting off into the night-sky.

"Well, that's that!" Negaduck turned and began to head down the street, which was silent and still once more, walking past the others.

He suddenly halted in his tracks and turned around, to see them staring at their leader with expressions of utter shock and disgust.

"What?" he barked. "_What_? What're you all looking at? Give me a break, already! It's just business!"

"No, Negaduck," Bushroot replied in a voice of ice. "It's just WRONG."

"...The hell did you just say to me, fertilizer-breath? I don't remember giving the pansy permission to sprout a backbone."

Quackerjack stepped forward, looking equally furious. "Listen, Negaduck! You've lied to us, cheated us, and betrayed us before, but this time you've gone too far!"

"The Liquidator would never have signed on, if he had read the fine print!"

Negaduck looked positively thunderstruck, which was soon replaced by anger. "You see? This is exactly what I'm always talking about! This is why you guys fail at life! You have no drive, no ambition! You're all a bunch of fucking marshmallows- too weak and short-sighted to see that if you wanna make it in the crime game, you've got to be _ruthless_! If you haven't learned shit from me by now, then you never will!" He growled impatiently. "You know what? I don't know why I continue to associate myself with you. That's it; screw you guys, I've had it! I'm done!"

Silence crashed down then, long and thick, like a brick wall between them.

And it was Bushroot who had the last word.

"And so are we."


	13. Trapped

Eleanor is (c) Aranori, and is being used with her kind permission,

* * *

"Well, I don't know about you fellas," Quackerjack muttered, toying with the drooped tails of his hat, "but I've got this heavy, sinking feeling in the cavity of my chest right about now."  
Bushroot raised an eyebrow at the jester. "Yeah, I think that would be guilt, Quacky," he said dryly. He sighed. "And, hey, join the club. I mean, sure, I wanted Megavolt back with the team just as much as you guys... but when I realized at what expense, to him personally... and then when it became clear that Negaduck had a completely different agenda in store for him all along...well, I guess I'm just an old sapling after all."  
"Indeed. The terms of our agreement have been violated like never before. The Liquidator prides himself on his marketing ingenuity, but even he draws the line at the exchange of flesh-and-blood for cash, particularly when so-called asset is a friend!" Liquidator shook his head in disgust.  
"Yeah, what is this?" Quackerjack sneered. "The Dark Ages?"  
"We should have simply put our foots down, and said 'No Sale'!"  
Bushroot exhaled loudly. "Well, we didn't, all right? Megavolt no longer wanted us in his life, let alone our style of life; he made that clear before, remember? I don't know what happened to cause this sudden change in him in the first place, but I suspect that girl has a lot to do with it. You were right back there, Liquidator; they do seem to share a past together, don't they? It was obvious how close they are. And you know what? I know what it's like to have cared deeply about somebody in another life!" The plant-duck's voice softened considerably, and his expression turned sadly distant. "I only hope that Megavolt was never as selfish as I once was."  
He was silent for a moment or two, and then he snapped, "The point is- we had a chance to stop Negaduck, and we didn't! I'm sick of always being so damn afraid of him, you know that? Why are we, anyway? Sure, he may have his weapons of excruciating pain and death, but we have our natural strengths to do the talking! He can't touch us! We're way more of a threat to him than he is to us, and he knows it! He knows we- his trained, brainwashed little army- have just been too blind to figure that out. He's always saying we're too stupid to take full advantage of our powers, and he's right- because, otherwise, we would've taken him down a long time ago."  
"The Liquidator concurs one-hundred percent. It's him who's always needed us!"  
"Well, playtime's over!"  
The following voice rang out from behind them, sardonic and biting. "Well, that all makes me feel much better!"  
The three villains turned around to see Eleanor standing there, some feet away. "Oh, uh, hi there, Miss..." Bushroot sheepishly began. "Um, what's your name, again?"  
Eleanor replied with a retort both un-ladylike and uncharacteristic.  
"Lady, please! Not in front of Mr. Banana Brain!" Quackerjack gasped.  
Before anybody could say anything else, a loud roar penetrated the night air. All heads immediately looked up to see a purple streak speeding down the street in their direction.  
"DARKWING DUCK!" came the unanimous cry. All frantically ran and waved him down.  
Meanwhile, the Masked Mallard performed a double-take at the curious spectacle ahead. "What the-?"  
"Hey, DW, isn't that the Fearsome Four- er, Three?" Launchpad asked.  
"You're right, Launchpad! But who's that with them?"  
He furrowed his brow thoughtfully. "I know we're on an emergency here, but my keen sleuthing instincts tell me this may be important."  
Darkwing pulled the RatCatcher over to a screeching halt in front of them. And, as soon as he did, he found himself verbally bombarded from all sides. Unable to get a word in edgewise amidst the panicked group, the taken-aback duck could only make out such names as "Elmo", "Megavolt", "Negaduck", and "F.O.W.L". It was the last word, however, that particularly piqued his interest.  
"HOLD IT!" Darkwing yelled out, and there was silence. "All right, look; I'm kinda in a hurry, so let's make this as short and sweet as possible, shall we? 'Kay, thanks, appreciate it." He pointed at Eleanor. "You! I don't know who you are, but I'm going to assume that you're quite obviously the most trustworthy one here. I'm only going to ask you one question, then I want you to answer me directly, and then tell me exactly what's going on. Ok- are you in trouble?"  
"YES!" she cried. "That is, Elmo is!"  
"Elmo? You wouldn't mean Elmo Sputterspark, by any chance, would you?" She nodded. "And would you, by that same chance, be a... certain long-time friend of his from high-school?" he carefully asked, with a momentary glance at the others.  
"Yes, that's right."  
Darkwing nodded. "Ok. Continue."  
Eleanor described how Elmo's former team-mates had broken into her house, apprehended the pair of them, and, using her as bait, forced the heartbroken and reluctant Elmo to return with them to a life of crime. "But then, I just found out from these guys-"  
"Yes, yes, we admit it!" Quackerjack cried, interrupting her. "It's all true! We were selfish and cowardly, and now Megs is in the clutches of that fuddy-duddy F.O.W.L.!"  
"Ok, wait- so, what exactly does F.O.W.L. have to do with this?" Darkwing asked impatiently, but already his brain was beginning to put the pieces together.  
"Negaduck sold Megavolt out- literally!" Bushroot explained. "We had no idea, we swear! Even we wouldn't betray a fellow villain and pal like that! I mean, it all happened so fast!"  
"That fancy-pants rooster with the metal schnoz and annoying laugh mentioned something about a new toy-" Quackerjack added, but he was then interrupted by a loud gasp from Darkwing.  
"Of course! It all makes perfect sense. The top-secret weapon F.O.W.L. has been developing for months now- it's supposed to be based on a power source of nearly infinite raw energy. That's got to be Megav- I mean, Elmo!"  
"Whoa," Launchpad said, with combined horror and amazement, "I think it's safe to say that none of us saw that coming."  
"Yeah," Darkwing agreed, frowning.  
He glanced over at Eleanor, whose expression of unspeakable shock and terror seemed to have been etched into her features like cement. She looked sickly pale. "This c-can't... can't be happening," she choked.  
"It's going to be ok, miss," Darkwing firmly reassured her, steadying her trembling form. "I know you've had a horrifying experience tonight, and this has been a lot to take in all-at-once, but I promise you- everything's going to be ok. All right? Are you going to be all right?"  
A shaky breath escaped her, and she forced herself to nod. She struggled against the urge to plead to go with him, but simple logic won out at the last moment. For what purpose? She would only be in the way. It would do none of them- herself, Darkwing, or poor Elmo- any good if she got herself captured, let alone possibly killed.  
"Listen, Darkwing," Bushroot said slowly, with clear regret and self-revulsion in his tone, "I know it doesn't mean much coming from us, but we're really sorry. We never meant for this happen. And I know it doesn't mean anything right now, but we've decided to leave Negaduck. For good."  
"As of this night, the Fearsome Five is officially discontinued," the Liquidator echoed, and Quackerjack nodded resolutely.  
Darkwing Duck just looked at them. "Yeah, well," he said coolly, "if you'll excuse me, I've got an entire civilization to save."  
He returned to the RatCatcher, and revved up the engine. "Let's get dangerous!"

* * *

A pair of mismatched eyes pried themselves open to greet a world hazy and disorientated, to say nothing of completely unfamiliar. He felt as though he had just gotten off a crazy carnival ride, his head like one giant sand bag.  
What had happened to him? Where was he? His bearings returned in less than a minute, for which he was very grateful, but the last little while remained a blank. He took a deep breath and dove into the depths of his frayed memory, sifting through all the grainy images of his mind's eye.  
The last thing he remembered was agreeing to re-join the Fearsome Five... they were holding Eleanor hostage... and then, he had found himself being taken away in a flying car, but not by Negaduck or any of his former cohorts.  
Another huge gap forced him to fast-forward to himself lying upon a cold metal table- the very table he was presently strapped to, he only now realized- in his traditional supervillain's get-up, with a million burning lights in the vicinity all screaming at him in a deafening chorus of agony. He knew he had to save the poor things, but was quick to learn that he was all out of juice; now, he was just as trapped and helpless as them. A familiar silhouette suddenly came into view, representing the one who had brought him here, his face horribly obscured by the harsh, accusing glare of the lights who spared Elmo's guilty conscience no mercy. And it had quickly become no secret that this was truly a dark and terrible place...  
Oddly enough, the voices seemed to stop nearly as soon as they had started. He listened carefully for what seemed an eternity, he tried speaking to them, but there was only silence for answer... sweet, welcome silence. And then he remembered that only this morning he had received that same silence, right from the start, when he had spoken to the bulbs in his lighthouse.  
Something had suddenly stung his arm! Gasping hoarsely, his head jerked to the left to see the syringe's needle wedged deep into a vein, greedily draining his own blood into its once-clear stomach. A potent wave of dizziness and nausea came crashing down.  
After that, he had known nothing further.  
"Ah, so you're awake. Sorry about that, pal, but High Command has their reasons and I had my orders." Elmo flinched, as the familiar voice abruptly reeled him back from his reverie.  
With an instinctive tug at his shackles, Elmo glared up at the smug rooster. "What's going on? What do you want with me?" Wishing he had enough energy to at least give off a few sparks, he added as an afterthought, "Do you have any idea who you're messing with?"  
"Lemmie see. Megavolt- master of electricity, St. Canard's most powerful supervillain, and Public Enemy #3. Am I missing anything?"  
Elmo blinked, his tough-guy act wilting. "Uh, no, I'd say that's... a fairly accurate summary." He hastily cleared his throat, forcing his lips into a smirk. "Ah-ha! My reputation precedes me, after all! Damn straight. In that case, I'd like to know how anyone in their right mind thinks they can get away with holding the most dangerous supervillain in all of St. Canard."  
Steelbeak replied, "Megs, babe, puh-lease. Foist of all, you currently ain't got none of dat juice at the ready, as I'm sure you're well aware. Secondly, youse should be thrilled. This is the biggest opportunity of your entire career... as well as mine, of course."


	14. Failure

Under normal circumstances, it was the greatest experience in the world for Megavolt to become fully charged after having his energy drained or shorting out. He despised feeling so wretchedly vulnerable, weak as a kitten. He had always thrived upon the healthy, glorious sensation of raw voltage being pumped into his system, steadily flowing through him.  
But for the first time in his life, he found himself unable to care. None of that mattered anymore. Though he was at full strength now, having just been recharged by some Eggmen, he barely even noticed; he had not felt more helpless and despondent in so long, not since that fateful night he had truly lost everything in addition to his identity as Elmo Sputterspark- his innocence, his parents, his best friend... which, ever since he'd had his memories returned to him, had seemed like only the day before.  
Those bittersweet memories had given him the courage and inspiration necessary to seek out his old friend, re-build their relationship. Although filled with natural uncertainty and trepidation about the bizarre wind of Fate that sent them back into each-other's lives, although time and circumstance had dramatically changed them over the years, they found that what was once between them had not been lost. In the short while they had been together again, they had felt their way along carefully until they could stand it no more, and had rapidly begun to evolve and discover new things between them. So far, there had been no pain, no more fear, no regrets. Not yet, anyway; fickle Fate had cruelly wrenched them apart again before they could even begin to determine where to go from there. Maybe it would've all worked out between them, maybe not... now, they would never know. And not knowing was far worse than if their attempts would have failed in the end, despite their mutual efforts.  
_I promised. I promised her I would never let anything separate us again,_ Elmo thought miserably. _I didn't fight for what was rightfully ours hard enough... and this is exactly why we were separated all those years ago. All because Elmo Sputterspark is too weak and pathetic. I am a loser... I should have known I could never escape Megavolt's shadow. It just wasn't meant to be. I'm so sorry, Eleanor... I've failed you again. Maybe you're just better off without me... at least now, I'll never hurt you again._  
"What's this? The all-powerful Megavolt too yella ta even try to fight for his freedom?" came the mocking voice of Steelbeak. He stared up at the electric rodent, who was strapped to the center of an enormous machine. His plug-shaped helmet was stuck firmly into a socket above him, and a giant, lengthy cord that wound around the base was fastened into his chest socket.  
_I hope you can forget about me someday...  
_"Ain't ya even curious as to why you've been inserted into such a position of... power?"  
Elmo didn't answer.  
"Hey, boss, I think he's crying!" a particularly large Eggman realized in surprise.  
Steelbeak chortled loudly. "Oh, man! This is too rich, it's gotta be fattening! I wish the rest of the city's criminal element could see this! For such a ridiculously overpowered guy, you sure talk big, but you seem to lack a certain spark about ya, ya know what I mean? No wonder you're always getting licked by Darkwing!"  
"But, uh... you've never defeated him either, right?" another Eggman pointed out.  
Stealbeak glared at the lacky, who instantly cowered. "Don't make me scuff up the suit!" he snapped.  
He turned back to Elmo. "Well, I'll tell ya why we commissioned your old friend, Negaduck, to recruit your services. Ya see, in its ever-consistent goal of global domination, F.O.W.L. has been searching for a way to bring the masses to its knees in a neat, cozy, no fuss-no muss manner that not even a certain vigilante could hope to resist. For that, we would need nothing short of a weapon of infinite raw energy with the destructive capacity to render entire cities to a smouldering pile of rubble. More to the point, in order ta operate dis here baby, the brainchild of months of sweat and blood- and I tink you'll like this part, pal- we needed just the right source, as befitting such a beauteous instrument of death and mayhem." He stroked it proudly. "So den, here's the plan in black-and-white- if the woild don't submit to us in twenty-four hours, we'll simply destroy a random city or town in a random nation every hour until they get wise. Starting with- and this is the best part- the very city that Darkwing Duck is sworn to protect." He shrugged. "Cliche, I know, but hey- I never said F.O.W.L. prided itself on originality. Just power."  
_Eleanor._ Icy horror plummeted like a stone into Elmo's gut.  
"NO! YOU CAN'T DO THIS! I'LL NEVER LET YOU HAVE MY POWER!" he screamed. In a fit of enraged desperation, he instinctively gave off a tremendous surge of electricity.  
"Whoa, Megs, babe- such a genius of your field should know dat all your power is strictly confined to the ray right now. I hate ta break it to ya, but you're all wired in with no place ta go! I thank youse for your willing cooperation, but you can just relax. We'll do the rest!" Steelbeak punched in a short series of commands on the machine's computer.  
And suddenly, pain- raw, unnatural pain unlike anything Elmo had ever known- tore into him. But worse than that, he realized what was happening.  
He was charging up the ray.


	15. Resistance Is Futile

He could not begin to discern where the torture began and he ended.  
His entire reality was now this suffocating shell of pain, all five of his senses were exploding with the pain, he had virtually morphed into one with the pain. It wrenched through his system, drilling into the core of every nerve and fiber of his being. He felt as though his very atomic structure were being broken down, sliced and diced, spread thin through time and space. If this kept up much longer, he would surely become vaporized.  
He was just vaguely able to cast his memory back to the time when his old appliance army had betrayed him, presently realizing that he was being put through the wringer much worse than even then, which was saying something.  
And then Eleanor's image suddenly burst through his consciousness like the brightest light in the darkest night, radiating with such brilliance and clarity that she became the sole target of his concentration; he desperately reached out to her in his mind's eye until she had broken through completely.  
_Drake... please, Darkwing... where are you? I can't lose her, not like this. Help us, please...  
_Meanwhile, Steelbeak could be overheard saying to the silhouetted figures upon the giant screen he stood before: "No worries, fellas; everything is going peachy-keen. The electro-slave device has been activated, and the ray should be fully charged in a few. And, best of all, no sign of dat meddling duck so far! In the meantime, as youse requested, I'll get da U.N. on da line. I just know dey won't wanna miss this!"

* * *

"F.O.W.L. headquarters straight ahead, DW!" Launchpad exclaimed, as the Ratcatcher deftly manoeuvred a final corner on the treacherous cliffside. "I just hope we're not too late!"  
"Launchpad, we're talking about a machine capable of taking out entire cities in less than a matter of seconds. Trust me- we'd know if we were too late!" Darkwing replied grimly. With an extra burst of speed, he charged towards the all-too-familiar structure that loomed in the distance. He flicked on the small screen in front of him, turning to GNN (Global News Network), which was currently discussing politics. "And so far, I'd say we've been making pretty good t-"  
"Breaking news!" an announcer's voice suddenly piped up.  
Darkwing frowned. "Something tells me I might have pushed our luck," he muttered.  
"Global crisis imminent! We now take you live to the headquarters of the United Nations, where a shocking turn of events has just occurred."  
The scene on-screen switched to a conference room where nearly every national representative ran up and down the aisles, in circles, screaming. "Only moments ago, the U.N. received a live broadcast from the terrorist agency known as F.O.W.L... or, more formally, the Fiendish Organization of World Larceny..."  
Both hero and sidekick listened in horror to the rest of the report in horror, which included footage of Steelbeak smoothly taunting them with his demands and threats, along with the ray in the background.  
"They want total world control and *how* much money?" Darkwing yelped.  
"Is that even a real number?" Launchpad wondered aloud.  
"And this is a special message for a soitain self-styled terror dat flaps in da night," Steelbeak was saying. "Youse will be the very foist to be wavin' the 'ol white flag, of course, otherwise St. Canard will be Target Numero Uno, comprende'? And don't think I'm bluffing here, because let's just say that you're more than well acquainted with our new source of power and what it's capable of." This time, a close-up of the ray- with particular emphasis on a clearly suffering Elmo- filled the screen. "So, not to put too fine a point on it, but the slightest indication of any resistance- from ANYBODY- will probably prove counter-productive with your desire for survival."  
Launchpad nervously tugged on his scarf, as the video ended and the broadcaster's voice became a hazy drone in the background. "Well, uh... I guess it wasn't a moment too soon we got updated," he gulped hoarsely.  
Darkwing pulled over behind a rocky wall, letting out an exasperated curse. "NO! This is insane!" he cried, jumping down and furiously pacing. "I'm practically right at their doorstep, I could've had the element of surprise on my side... and my hands are completely tied! How am I going to stop F.O.W.L. before they destroy St. Canard and anywhere else?"  
He sighed shakily. "Me and Elmo both have loved ones' lives at stake," he said dejectedly. "I hate to admit it, Launchpad, but I've never felt so... well... so helpless before. These guys are really playing for keeps this time. If I do nothing, the freedom of millions will be lost! If I even try to stop them, the lives of everybody in St. Canard will be lost for sure! I... don't know what to do. Or do I? I- no, just because it seems like the obvious choice on the surface doesn't necessarily make it the easy or right one! But there IS no lesser of two evils here; whatever happens, NOTHING good will come of it, and all because Darkwing Duck couldn't do a damned thing! What am I supposed to do? Tell Gos and Morgana goodbye, then perform one final heroic attempt in sheer vain? Give up, and allow my friends and family to become part of the miserable, defenceless masses?"  
Launchpad watched his best friend and hero sadly. He had never seen him this despaired and shook-up before. It was horribly disheartening.  
"And who knows," Darkwing went on, "how many other lives will be lost because of all the poor, foolish, yet honorable and valiant souls out there. People like me who stand for justice, who have made it their life's purpose! The CIA, the FBI, every military force on Earth... none of them stand a chance for _one simple, stupid reason_!"  
They were both silent for a long time, then Launchpad said: "Well, DW, all I can think of is contacting S.H.U.S.H. Maybe J. Gander can send over something that'll help us. I mean, if it's mostly a matter of infiltrating the base undetected..."  
"I'd say that's our best option right now," Darkwing agreed, looking slightly more hopeful.  
At that moment, J. Gander himself appeared on the Ratcatcher's screen. "Darkwing, are you there?" he said, the urgency in his voice unmistakable.  
Darkwing leapt on-screen. "Right here, J. Gander!"  
"Oh, thank goodness; I was worried I had missed you. Darkwing, I am afraid the situation is far more dire than we thought."  
"I know, I just saw the broadcast on GNN. I was actually just about to call you-"  
"Have no fear, my boy. One of our top freelance agents is already on their way with S.H.U.S.H.'s latest resource."  
This bit of assurance was, a split second later, followed by the distinct drone of helicopter blades. The heros automatically looked up, only to spot an all-too-familiar duck in his trademark suit of shining white armor...  
"Oh, you have GOT to be kidding me!" Darkwing snarled, as Gizmoduck came in for a landing.  
"Well, who did you expect? Inspector Gadget?" the super-powered superhero quipped. "Unfortunately, chaps, I can't stick around; my instructions were to deliver the package safely, then return to my full-time duties in Duckburg. Mr. McDuck and his assets especially need my projection, now more than ever in these troubling times." He ceremoniously thrust the cumbersome package into Darkwing's hands, and saluted. "So, Darkwing, I leave St. Canard in your capable hands."  
"So honored, I'm sure," Darkwing said, his oozing sarcasm completely lost on Gizmoduck, before muttering under his breath: "It being my city, and all..."  
"Well, I must be off. Good luck, Wingy! GIZMODUUUCK AWAY!"  
Launchpad watched him take to the skies. "Gee, it's a shame that he can't-" He hastily bit his tongue, upon seeing Darkwing's venomous glare.  
"Getting back to the matter at hand," J. Gander continued from the screen, as Darkwing's countenance returned to its previously grim, determined form. "What I've sent you, Darkwing, is our prototype Invisibility Ray. Now, what is particularly interesting about this device is that it's installed with a kind of sensory chip that allows it to detect those of a strictly evil, untrustworthy nature or motive. It will render you entirely invisible to them, but you and Launchpad will still be able to see each-other. Now, here's the critical part-"  
"Right... you did say it was a only a prototype," Darkwing remarked somewhat dryly, as he carefully unpacked it.  
"Precisely. Naturally, due to the extreme turn of events, we hadn't any time to work the bugs out. My only word of caution is that you try to disable the weapon within the next two hours after you become invisible. Under normal circumstances, you would've had twenty-four hours, but..."  
Darkwing waved. "Not a problem, J. We may not have even _that _much time to eliminate that evil espionage establishment's extreme endeavour to end civilization as we know it; ergo, we're entering borrowed time even as we speak."  
"Just one thing," Launchpad spoke up. "What do we do with the ray after we use it? A thing like that would be pretty suspicious left lying around this place."  
"Already taken into account, Launchpad. Simply push the red button below the lever, and it will neatly and compactly fold up into the size of a paperweight."  
"And then, we pocket it," Darkwing finished. "Thanks, Director! Darkwing out." Launchpad observed that he looked much happier, at least significantly more hopeful. "All right, LP, let's get _invisible_!"  
Darkwing pulled the level, and...  
"Uh, Launchpad? Are we invisible?"  
"Uh, I guess so, DW," the pilot replied, sounding slightly uncertain himself. He glanced into the Ratcatcher's sideview mirror, and saw no trace of either of them. "Yup, we're good to go!"  
A voice rang out from behind them. "Not so fast, Darkwing!"  
Darkwing whirled around, and his trademark fedora nearly flew up from his head in his shock. "What are you-? How did you get-?" was all he could sputter.  
"Well, at least it's not Gos this time. She should still be safe at Morgana's," Launchpad pointed out.  
Darkwing ignored him, focusing with bewildered skeptism upon the three freakish figures that had just arrived. "What's going on? Did you follow me here?" he demanded.  
"He's a clever one, son," Quackerjack piped up for Mr. Banana Brain, grinning.  
"And what about Eleanor Johansson?"  
"If you're referring to Megavolt's friend, you have our lifetime guarantee that she is in no danger," the Liquidator replied, holding up a hand. He added uneasily, "At least, not from us."  
"You have no idea! F.O.W.L. is going to destroy a different city around the world every hour, starting with St. Canard, unless the world rolls over onto its back like some whipped dog!"  
"And they're using our pal as an unwilling battery, to boot!" fumed Quackerjack. "Well, nobody takes away my favorite former playmate, and gets away with it! We're here to take him back!" Bushroot and Liquidator nodded adamantly.  
"Our extra services are yours at no charge! Act now, because this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance only! And the Liquidator doesn't just refer to us willingly teaming up with you, because we have our own quota to fill regardless."  
Suddenly, Darkwing performed a double-take. "Hey, just wait a minute here!" he exclaimed. "You can see me?"  
The three took a moment to exchange looks of utter bafflement. "Well, hellooo! Of course we can! I mean, what kind of a stupid question is that anyway?" Bushroot snapped, before pausing. "Uh... Darkwing?" He blinked. "Is there a reason you're making such faces? Are you cracking under pressure, or are you just being deliberately insulting?"  
"So, you really can see me! But, but- you're villains!"  
Another round of looks and shrugs was shared among the group, and Quackerjack made the 'crazy' sign.  
"Hold on, DW!" Launchpad began, looking unusually thoughtful. "Remember what he also said about motive? They may be bad guys, but their motives aren't really that evil and untrustworthy... at least, not right now. Even though they're only concerned about saving one individual instead of the entire world, we're still technically all on the same page."  
"Well, I suppose that's a feasible explanation... I guess..." muttered Darkwing. "And it won't be the first time we've joined forces to take down a greater threat." He turned to the group. "The thing is- the instant anybody is so much as detected, Metalmouth made it clear what he wouldn't hesitate to do... and hopefully, his words will continue to speak louder than any action."

* * *

"All righty; ladies and gentlemen, we are good to go!" Steelbeak crowed. "Now, all's we gotta do is play da ol' Waiting Game..."  
"Uh, what exactly are we waiting for?" one of the Eggmen asked.  
Steelbeak growled impatiently. "Have you had yer helmet under a rock all dis time?" he yelled. "Fer the United Nations to surrender to us, o'course! Then, the woild is as good as ours. One New Woild Orda coming up... to stay!" He chuckled in his traditional manner.  
"That reminds me, can we all go to Hamburger Hippo to celebrate?"  
Steelbeak ignored him, and contacted High Command. "She's all charged up and standing by," he reported.  
"Excellent, Agent Steelbeak. If we do not hear back within the next hour, you know how to help them along with this most... difficult decision."  
"And what of him?" Steelbeak asked, gesturing a thumb towards a barely-conscious Elmo. You want I should keep him on reserve? All he'd need is some more juice-"  
"Dispose of him. The machine won't need recharging anytime soon; its power supply is now as good as unlimited."  
"Yeah, but his obviously ain't; I mean, look at 'im. It's all his energy we're talking about here," Steelbeak pointed out in what was, for him, a tone of respect.  
The trio that made up F.O.W.L. High Command simultaneously narrowed their eyes, and the rooster felt a trickle of sweat run down the back of his neck. "As many re-charges as it would take- of both himself and, likewise, the machine- and despite the fact that he does indeed carry a tremendous deal of electricity in his veins, as we've learned from our analysis of the electrons in his blood sample alone, he is still human in the end; mortal, limited. Besides, we can always duplicate those electrons, if need be."  
Steelbeak shrugged. "Whatever youse say."  
He unhooked Elmo, and turned to his clean-freak of a co-worker. "Ammonia, babe, if youse would please be so kind?"  
"Well, what's one more trip down to the garbage disposal today?" Pine grinned. "Less useless junk to clutter up this place means less work later!" She muttered to herself as she headed out, dragging Elmo along like a limp rag doll, "You know, I don't know why some people insist on saving dead batteries... weirdos, if you ask me..."  
Without so much as a glance over her shoulder, she called back, "And don't call me babe!"  
"Hey, _excuuuuse _me, princess! I did say please!"


End file.
